Nowhere To Run
by JayneB
Summary: Things don't go according to plan when the gang investigate gun smuggling in a local school.
1. Chapter 1

Everyone had long since gone home and the usually bustling building was strangely quiet. The lone figure sat silently staring at his shaking hands, a mixture of fear, guilt and almost unbearable nausea fought for position in his guts. The room was in darkness apart from the glow coming from the lamp on the desk where he sat as it cast shadows on his drawn and tortured features. His face was white as a sheet and his usually bright, watchful dark eyes glistened vacantly, the ever worsening headache giving them a flint like edge under the fast developing bruise that covered the right side of his brow. He wanted so badly just to go to sleep and have everything disappear, if only for a few hours. But when they had agreed to allow him to leave the hospital they had informed him that he had a severe concussion and was not to fall asleep under any circumstances for at least three hours. That had been the good news, to try and soften the blow before telling him that he was in the middle of a massive nervous breakdown. That was part of the reason he was here now. They had wanted to admit him but he had flat out refused. Eventually he had been allowed to leave but only if it was under someone else's supervision. He had begged them not to tell anyone else, that he wanted to do it in his own time so they had only said that he needed checking on for the concussion. Still it was better than being back at that hospital. He couldn't stand hospitals. It had been that way since he was a kid, too many bad memories. It was better to be here where there were at least a few good ones to cling to.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered slight muffled noises as Adam Fuller moved around back in his office, looking out into the bullpen every so often to check on the exhausted young officer sat outside thinking he wouldn't notice. He had noticed, but it wasn't like he cared anyway. Why couldn't they just leave him in peace? If he was himself he guessed he might feel irritated by Fullers concern and make it clear to his commanding officer that he didn't need a baby sitter, he was a grown man and could look out for himself. But he didn't feel like a grown man. Grown men didn't need someone to hold them, to let them cry and tell them everything's going to be ok. But he wasn't himself and he was too focused on desperately trying to control the shaking that seemed to fill every fibre of his being to really care, even though he was only succeeding in causing yet more shooting pain through his head.

It was so quiet now. After everything that had happened the silence seemed alien. It wouldn't stay silent for long though, they'd be back, the quack at the hospital had assured him of that. He'd also assured him they wouldn't be there forever, not if he didn't want them too. But in a strange way they had comforted him. They hadn't had such high expectations of him, in fact over the past few days they had made the most sense. They knew he wasn't perfect, weren't expecting him to be their saviour and make everything right. Although no one would think that of him now, not after what he'd done, he was sure of that. When the others looked at him now what would they see? Would they see their friend who they had looked up to and trusted all these years, or would they see the twisted mess he did every time he looked in the mirror. He didn't know, didn't want to know. He hadn't been able to bring himself to look them in the eyes after everything that had happened.

Although if anyone had asked him what exactly had happened he wouldn't have been able to tell them. Everything was a haze of half remembered dreams with huge gaps where he couldn't remember anything, he'd had to rely on what others had told him. Well apart from the gun shot going off. That sound he would never be able to forget, it echoed constantly in his mind like the last song you hear on the radio. He had stared at the blood on his hands for what must have been a lifetime after it had happened. When he looked at his hands now under the faint light from the desk lamp he could still see it. Staining his fingers, resting under his nails and filling every crease in his palms. How could one person have so much blood? He couldn't even remember calling the ambulance or how he had got here for that matter. Had he called the ambulance? He hoped so, at least that would show some remorse, some sign that he was sorry for what he had done. But was he sorry? That was another question he couldn't answer. One of many that were whirling around his battered and confused mind.

Scenes flickered across his heavy eyes as he tried to make some sense of the past few hours, try to put the events into some kind of order, but all his thoughts were fuzzy and muddled. How had this happened? Was he cursed? Poison they had called him. Was he really everything they had all said he was? He had just killed someone after all. It still seemed so unbelievable. He'd actually killed someone, and this time he would just walk away. It seemed somewhat perverse that he could just walk away from this when his life had been ruined for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time, like he'd paid for it in advance so now no one cared. He thought bitterly of the months he spent protesting and trying to convince countless people that he wasn't a killer. It all seemed meaningless now. In one split second he had turned that into a lie. Yet another lie to add to the many others trailing out behind him like a slug trails slime. He couldn't even remember how it had happened. Everything had all started so normal. It was a relatively straight forward case, and they had nearly wrapped it up. In fact they were as good as gone. There was no one thing he could pin point that could have caused everything to escalate so fast. But isn't that what they had told him, it wasn't just one thing. So what happens now? What does someone do when they take another persons life? Usually they go to prison, but he'd already done that, got the t-shirt and he wasn't really too keen on going back. Besides, it was one thing he didn't have to worry about as it was doubtful that there would even be an investigation. He vaguely noticed the phone ring in Fullers office. Desperate not to have to think anymore he listened to the deep muffled voice of his captain as he closed his eyes, rested his aching head on the desk and let out a deep breath as muddled images passed through his mind.

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_Five days earlier._

His eyes shot open again as the shrill ringing of the alarm rang throughout the room calling him back from peaceful nothingness. He reached out and picked it up, noting that it was 6:15 and, being the middle of winter, still dark, before throwing it across the room. His head was fuzzy and his mouth felt like a rat had set up residence there while he slept. Oh well, yet another day of endless possibilities stretched out before him. He sighed deeply and, pulling back the covers, got to his feet, staggering as he tripped over the empty whiskey bottle from the night before. Not that he remembered drinking it, but it would explain why an invisible hammer was smashing his skull in and why his feet wouldn't go where he thought he was putting them. In the bathroom he flicked on the light and blinked his eyes when the brightness assailed them. As his eyes adjusted to the light he turned on the tap and splashed the icy cold water over his face. When he raised his eyes to the mirror over the sink, his breath caught in his throat and he stared in shock as they met the ones looking back at him. He had always believed that there were people in this world who walked around day after day as if they were sleep walking, certainly not dead, but barely alive. They respond when spoken to, do everything expected of them, but they're merely existing. When you look into their eyes all you see is endless empty holes. But if you look closely enough you can see way deep down a glimmer of desperate pleading, and if you listen closely enough you can hear them screaming out that they're still here, still alive. They pray that if they scream loud enough eventually someone will hear them and set them free. Unfortunately the person deep inside has no control over the voice and so remains silent. They wake up every morning and feel slightly disappointed that they haven't somehow slipped away in the night, but still they continue to drift. That's what he saw when looked in the glass before him, that's what he read in that blank empty gaze. He wrenched his eyes away and, holding his breath, plunged his face into the cold water pooling in the washbasin. Coming back up he rubbed vigorously at his closed eyes and shaking his head before once more looking at the face before him. He studied his reflection and sighed in slight relief. The eyes weren't blank any longer. They were wide and scared. They weren't his eyes, he knew that, but at least they weren't those empty black holes anymore.

"What happened to you?" he asked the boy in the mirror. There was no answer, he hadn't really expected one. That boy once had so many hopes and dreams, so many plans. What had Linda called them? Noble aspirations. He certainly didn't have any now, noble or otherwise. That kid had been gone so long now, and he had taken all those dreams and aspirations with him.

_"They'll see it you know."_ came the voice from somewhere in the back of his confused mind.

"See what?" he said his tone bored and dismissive

_"Your lights gone out. There's no one home anymore buddy."_

"Oh really?! Where are you hiding then?"

_"I'm all that's left"._

"If you say so." he sighed and went back to inspecting his reflection.

_"You look like shit! Are you getting enough sleep?"_

"Shut up!" he snapped. It was true though. He had definitely looked better. He had always looked rather pale and fragile but the face in the mirror appeared as if it was sculpted out of porcelain. The pale complexion was made more noticeable by the thick dark hair that was hanging, now slightly wet, around his face. Over the past few months it had become overgrown and slightly stringy, now it seemed to be trying to devour his entire head. He didn't care though. He actually quite liked it, it was something he could hide behind. He smiled at this thought and turned away to begin the daily ritual of getting to work.

_"That's right. Can't be late. You're the example and you can't let the side down can you?"_

"I can and I will" he replied hating the whiny and childish tone in his voice. "It's a free country isn't it?"

_"Screw up!"_

He started when he heard the last phrase. Over the past few months he had gotten used to the mocking voice in his head. It had worried and even frightened him in the beginning but now it was just some irritating extension of his own thoughts. But it was a different voice that had called him a screw up. He had heard that voice before, not for a while though. The last time he had heard that voice was shortly before they had finally brought down Raymond Crane. It had probably called him a screw up then too, it had been very fond of doing so. He took a deep breath and threw down the towel he had been harshly scrubbing at the water on his face with.

"Fuck you!" he said to the empty room before heading back to his bedroom.

As he walked through the door his eyes rested on his bed, suddenly he wanted nothing more than to climb back under the covers and drift back into unconsciousness.

_"Now that would be running away wouldn't it?"_ the words now back to the chiding tones of his own voice.

"Yep. What's your point?" he said as he pulled on his scruffiest pair of jeans.

_"You don't get to run away, they're all counting on you. You have to go out and face the world. Don't you remember what happens when you screw up? People usually get hurt or killed"_

"It's not my fault. I'm not God!"

_"Do they know that?"_

"Probably. And what if they don't?" he snapped while pulling on the T Shirt he had disguarded the night before curling his nose up at the smell that was beginning to seep out of the fabric. He really should do his washing more often. Oh well, no one cared if a McQuaid stank. "Well?" he said impatiently to the empty apartment. "Got no answer to that do you?" This was met by silence. Breathing a sigh of relief he ran his fingers through his hair as he left the room. "Thought not."

He picked his way across the scattered bottles and empty packets that covered his living room floor thinking to himself how disappointed people would be if they saw what state his apartment was in and the evidence of how he spent his time alone these days. Looking at it now stone cold sober he had to admit he felt slightly disappointed in himself. Only those who were too weak and pathetic to handle their own messes turned to drink. After all he had seen, he knew only too well what damage turning to drink can do. So why did he do it?

"Because it helps" he answered himself as he picked up a still half full bottle of Jack Daniels from the floor and proceeded to down it as quickly as he could.

_"You're doing that too much as well."_

"I'm over 21 aren't I?" he said sardonically.

_"I guess that depends on who you are today." _

Kicking rubbish out of his path he made his way to the small kitchen thinking that a really strong cup of coffee would make him feel better. He reached out and opened one of the cupboards and was slightly stunned to find that it was full of nothing but whiskey and vodka. When had he bought all that? He didn't even like vodka. Shaking the puzzled look from his face he decided to grab coffee on his way to the chapel and picked up his keys from where he had dropped them the night before.

_"Surely you're not going to drive after drinking nearly half a bottle of whiskey."_

"What if I am?"

_"You've got a death wish pal. Oh, maybe you want to go back inside."_

"Go jump!" he snapped before yanking open his front door and slamming it hard behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to A Sparrows Soul, goodnightmysweetprince and Ghostwriter. It's always nice to hear from you guys :0) xx**

**I'm trying something different with this. The story is going to be told through flashbacks, from the different characters POV. If it doesn't work let me know, constructive criticism is always welcome.**

That had been the morning after Fuller had sent them out on their last case, he remembered that much. Greenwood High School, a school around five miles out of town, had recently developed a problem with firearms being smuggled onto the school campus. Not just any firearms, but automatic weapons capable of blowing a hole through a concrete wall. So far five kids had been expelled and charged with possession of illegal weapons and the lid needed to be put on this particular problem before it got completely out of control and someone was seriously injured. He had a very clear image of Fuller expressing how important it was that this be done very carefully and without any screw ups. Had that been for his benefit he wondered? Harry had originally been sent in but given his understandable feelings towards automatic guns he had been pulled out. He remembered how jumpy and angry Harry had been when he found out these 'guns' happened to be the same make as the one that almost ended his life. He also remembered the ensuing argument between him and his partner and despite his current state found himself smiling slightly at the memory. He had argued more through habit than really having any objection to the idea. Their endless good natured bickering seemed to be what had defined their friendship over the years and slipping back into it felt natural, like everything was as it had always been before. Doug Penhall had set his mind on using a very specific cover and wasn't going to take no for an answer. But when did he ever say no and actually stick to it? Besides, his partner had always been able to talk him into anything.

"Come on. You know it makes sense" the bear like young officer whined as he followed his smaller friend, who was weaving his way through the clutter of desks scattered around the chapels main office.

"No way. It didn't work last time, what makes you think it will now?" Tom Hanson said glaring at the man standing over him.

"Of course it won't work if you go in with that attitude." Doug said, slight frustration mixed with the whiny tone is his voice. "Look, who better to find a gun runner than Tommy McQuaid."

"How about someone who isn't a cartoon?"

"Right, look at it this way. Imagine you're selling guns ok."

"Do I get to use them before I sell them?" Tom said impatiently.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"No reason" Tom grinned.

"Be quiet!" Doug snapped. "Who would you most likely pass your goods on to? You or Tommy McQuaid?"

"I'm a cop, that's a stupid question."

"You know what I mean. Would you sell to a preppy C grade student or someone who'd served time for manslaughter?"

"I'm never letting you come up with a cover ever again." he replied looking at the larger man in disgust.

"It's the only one we've never blown." Doug said defensively

"And for the record" Tom began pointing a warning finger at his partner, "I am not preppy and I have **never** been a C grade student." he finished with a small smile

"Ok, B grade, whatever." He returned Tom's look of disgust as he noticed the smug smile on Hanson's face. "Did you ever get lower than an A?" Tom simply shrugged his shoulders.

"How the hell have I put up with you for so long?"

"My charming personality. Look, we agreed they were over, man."

"Tell me honestly that you don't miss them?"

"I don't. Let's just come up with another story". Although he hated to admit it the thought of being Tommy McQuaid again actually did appeal to him. Tommy McQuaid had it pretty sweet. No one had any expectations of Tommy. He could go round doing whatever he felt without having to worry about any repercussions. Tommy McQuaid was free, but more than that, he was alive.

"No, they're perfect. Come on." Doug whined. "Just one last time, then I promise they're gone."

"You promised that last time."

"I know, but this time I really mean it."

_"Just agree to it. You will in the end anyway. That's what you do isn't it? Whatever they expect of you."_

"Ok, fine. But this is the very last time!"

"_Good boy! Have a Scooby Snack"_

"I knew you'd see sense" Doug smiled putting his arm around his partner.

"Is that what you call it" Tom sighed.

He didn't know why he was arguing anyway, seeing as he didn't really care, it was just a needless irritation and couldn't be bothered arguing anymore, he was too tired.

"Let's go tell Fuller the good news and he can get everything in place."

"You go. I'll be there in a minute." he said thoughtfully as he focused his eyes on something on the other side of the room. Doug looked at him questioningly before following his gaze. A knowing smile spread over his face as he noted the figure of Judy Hoffs talking on the phone at her desk. She seemed slightly agitated as she spoke in urgent hushed tones and knotted her hair around her fingers. At first Doug had been jealous of the flirting and fleeting looks between his two friends but he had come to realise that Tom cared more for Judy than anyone ever could, even if he didn't seem to know it himself.

"No rush." he grinned and made his way over to the room his commanding officer called home.

Tom stood watching the pretty black girl as she talked. It wasn't often he got the chance to really look at her. He watched her large dark eyes, becoming more expressive as she spoke, watched her lips forming every word, found himself transfixed by the movement of her fingers as she twisted them into her mass of dark curls. For him she shimmered like an oasis in the desert that was his existence, because when he looked at her he didn't feel like an empty shell anymore.

_"Yep, she's special that one. Way too good for you. Stay away from her pal, you'll just wither her like you have everything else."_

Dismissing the friendly advice he allowed himself to bathe in her glow for a little while longer, with contentment turning to concern as he noticed her become more agitated. Eventually she hung up and sat resting her head on her hands obscuring his view of her face.

"You alright?" came the soft voice from somewhere near. She looked up and smiled as she saw the dark eyes looking back at her.

"Fine." she said offering a weak smile.

"You don't look fine. Come on, you can talk to me." he said kindly.

"You'll just think I'm being stupid. Don't worry about it."

"I won't. Come on." he said as he seated himself on the corner of her desk. Hearing the deep concern in his voice she looked up at him and began to sob. "Judy, what is it?"

_"Here we go again. Saint Tom to the rescue. When did they last listen to your problems?"_

"Nothing really. I've just been talking to my mother. She and Dad have finally decided to call it a day."

"I'm sorry" he said He wanted so much to hold her and touch her, but he would only pollute her with the dirt buried in every pore of his skin. Eventually he settled with putting a comforting arm around her.

"I suppose I have seen it coming for a while, it's still a shock though."

"They've not been happy for a long time Jude. First time I met your mom they'd split up. If they're making each other unhappy maybe they're better off apart."

"I know" she sniffed. "Wherever I've gone I've always had that solid foundation to go back to you know. It's just going to take some getting used to."

"Grow up Judy" Tom snapped suddenly seeing red. "You're a big girl now, they don't have to stay together just so it doesn't upset your perfect little world."

"I never expected them to." Hoffs replied suddenly finding herself on the defensive.

"Yes you do. Listen to yourself. You sound like a spoilt three year old. People don't have to live their lives to fit in with you."

"I don't..."

"Yes you do. You all do. They're not just your parents. They're people Judy and they have as much right to be happy as you do."

"I know that..." she began, looking hurt and confused.

"Let me tell you something." he said cutting her off. "This world isn't perfect and neither are any of the people in it. Get used to disappointment Judy." he finished as he stood and headed off to join Doug in Fullers office.

_"And you claim you care about that girl? She only wanted comforting. I'd love to see how you treat your enemies."_

"Morning Hanson. Ready for your big entrance?" Harry said as Hanson roughly pushed past him not even seeming to notice his presence. With a puzzled look after his friend he wandered over to Hoff's desk.

"What's with him?" he asked.

"I've no idea" she replied looking helpless and confused. In all the years she'd known him, Tom had never really raised his voice to her. He had been her protector, the one she was able to tell anything to. Unfortunately he was also the only one who could really hurt her. With one look he could bring everything crashing down around her ears. She had learned that when he found out she had being seeing Booker. The disappointment in his face and the bitter tone to his voice had struck her like a knife. She had hated telling him she had been raped. She was so scared he wouldn't look at her the same way anymore, scared that in his eyes she would be tainted, dirty. But he'd been her rock through the worst time of her life. So why couldn't he be her rock now?

"My mom called and I was a bit upset. He was being really sweet actually and then he just blew up." Like Doug, Harry hadn't missed the signals between his two partners.

"Don't worry about it". he said kindly trying to reassure her. "He's had a lot to deal with just lately. Anyway, you know what he's like." he said dismissively, "He probably woke up in a bad mood and needed to vent. Just wait, in a few minutes he'll realise what a jerk he's been and he'll come back and apologise."

"Yeah, course he will." Judy smiled, not sounding quite convinced.

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Fuller looked up with a badly disguised look of impatience when the door opened and Hanson wandered absently into the room and settled down on the couch. Noticing his defensive posture and the prickly atmosphere he brought into the room, Doug eyed his friend with suspicion as he sat staring at the floor. Fuller was also focused solely on the younger man, but with a very different expression on his face. After a few moments he gave an impatient cough.

"You got something to say Hanson?" the older man barked.

"No, you carry on coach."

"Maybe next time you might want to join us while we discuss your case."

"Sorry Sir" he said dismissively. "What did I miss?"

"The principle of Greenwood High found another student trying to sneak a gun on campus."

"What was it this time?"

"Uzi, same as the last one."

"So that's three AK47's and four Uzi's in a fortnight. Someone's been busy." Doug said as he switched his attention from his partner to his commanding officer.

"Did he tell anyone where he'd got it this time?"

"She, Hanson, and no she didn't. Just said that she'd got it through another student."

"Don't they have any idea where these are coming from?"

"Nothing solid."

"Can we get a trace on the guns?"

"Already working on it Hanson."

"Harry hasn't found anything?" Doug said puzzled.

"No. He has his suspicions. The only kid he thinks is remotely capable is a kid called Chris Tyler. 17 years old, was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon last year. Likes to pass the time by traumatising his fellow students."

"He's our main man then?" Doug asked.

"We don't know. Harry's not really had a sniff of what's been going on. That's why I want you to keep your eyes open when you go in guys. Whoever's bringing these in is most likely getting them from an outside source, so ears to the ground fella's."

_"He's like a tall black Bosley. You guys really are Charlie's Angels."_ Not quite managing to stifle a smile, Hanson drew yet another reproachful look from the man at the desk.

"Something funny Tom?" he asked with a frustrated sigh.

"No Sir."

"Good. Harry's coming out in a couple of days. He'll start laying the groundwork for you guys."

"Groundwork?" Doug asked as Hanson sat letting the words wash over him but not really listening.

"Telling old McQuaid war stories. You'll be famous by this afternoon." he said with a wry smile.

"We'll be armed to the teeth in no time." Doug beamed proudly.

"As long as he doesn't overdo it"

"Captain, where the McQuaid's are concerned you can never go too far."

"Fair enough. Well, everything's in place and you go in first thing in the morning."

"You really think this will work?" Tom asked trying to seem interested.

"Maybe, maybe not" Fuller said doing his best McQuaid impression. Doug grinned broadly and a ghost of a smile flitted across Hanson's face." I won't lie to you guys. I wasn't too upset to see the back of the McQuaid's, but I agree with Penhall on this one. They're perfect for this case."

"Told you!" Doug grinned.

"Actually Hanson, I'm surprised you let Penhall talk you into this again."

"So am I. But could you say no to that face?"

"Quite easily"

"Oh but coach he's so cute." Hanson replied gesturing to his partner who was sat grinning and looking particularly pleased with himself.

"Off you go guys" Fuller said impatiently. "Remember, it's a tough school, so keep your eyes open and be careful. Whoever this guy is has a lot to lose and I don't like having to do extra paperwork because one of my officers has gone and got themselves killed"

"Makes you feel really loved doesn't he?" Doug said lightly to his partner. Tom smiled because that's what he knew Doug expected

"Don't worry. Behind that gruff exterior he loves us like sons." Tom said flippantly patting his partners shoulder in mock comfort. "Don't you coach?"

"Oh yeah." Fuller said dismissively. Well he wasn't really going to admit it to them. "Especially if you go out and catch this guy." he said meaningfully.

"Yes sir" they both replied and headed out the door.

And so it was that Doug and Tommy McQuaid headed of to begin their reign of terror at Greenwood High School.


	3. Chapter 3

There was quite a crowd gathered outside Greenwood High School when the old blue mustang pulled into the student parking lot. Thanks to a very chatty Vietnamese student who had recently joined, the tales of the McQuaid brothers had spread through the student body prior to their arrival so by the time they appeared they were already urban legends. Everyone was anxious to catch a glimpse of the infamous McQuaid's, the brothers who had hijacked school buses, traumatised countless teachers, had drug connections coming out of their ears, and of course the younger brother who had served time for manslaughter. Numerous pairs of eyes followed them as they made their way up to the school, making both men feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Makes you feel kinda sorry for goldfish doesn't it?" Doug said quietly to his partner.

"Not really. Goldfish don't have to walk round looking like they slept in a dumpster."

"I think you look very nice" Doug smiled.

"Oh that's just wrong" Tom said suddenly, forgetting his discomfort as his eyes focused on something over Doug's shoulder. Doug turned round and followed his gaze along the line of students waiting to go through the large metal detector that had been placed at the schools entrance. They stood watching as one by one the kids walked through the doors, joined one of a further two queues and were then frisked when they reached the other side.

"What are we going to do about our guns?" Doug asked panicked. "If we're searched they'll find them and our badges."

"Just stay calm, we'll think of something."

"Like what? That's a metal detector." he said raising his voice slightly as they neared the offending obstruction. "Why didn't Harry warn us?"

"Maybe he didn't know. Now stop it. You're just going to draw more attention to yourself."

"I don't think that's possible"

"Give me your gun." Hanson hissed

"What?" Doug said looking at him in shock.

"I said give me your gun."

"Tom..."

"Just trust me Doug." he said holding out his hand for the gun.

"Ok.I just hope you know what you're doing". Doug carefully palmed his gun and before anyone could notice it was safely hidden in Hanson's tattered jacket.

"Now come on" he snapped grabbing the larger mans sleeve and pulling him towards the queue.

"What are you going to do?"

"Just stay calm and shut up"

They took their place in line and did their best to appear calm and unconcerned. Doug looked around, occasionally glancing at his partner to see if there was any sign of what he was planning. After a short time Hanson turned his attention to a small group of students in front of them. The teens were deep in conversation and barely noticed the others surrounding them. So, as his partner looked on, Hanson brought the guns out of his pocket, hiding them as best he could in the palm of his hand. Turning towards the boy stood right in front of him the young officer slowly and neatly placed both guns in the jacket the boy had slung over his shoulder. Doug's eyes widened in shock and he threw a questioning glance at his friend who simply shrugged his shoulders and motioned him forward. They stood in silence and waited as the boy stepped forward through the detector and the numerous lights and alarms blared out. The boy stood there in shock looking like a rabbit in headlights trying to work out what was going on.

"Could you step over here and empty your pockets son." Mr Shearer, the school principle said. The boy looked at him with wide scared eyes as he began to place the contents of his pockets in the tray held out to him. When he had fished everything out of the pockets in his jeans he began to try and leave but the principle put his hand out to stop him.

"And your jacket" he said sternly. The boy handed his jacket over and watched in horror as two .38's were held out before him. His wide eyes studied the furious face of the man stood before him and he went as white as a sheet.

"I...I don't know how they got there." he stammered.

"I think you'd better come with me and start explaining boy." the man spat before placing the guns with the other confiscated items and dragging the poor confused and frightened teen away.

"They're not mine, I swear. I've never seen them before. I wouldn't even know where to find a gun."

As this scene unfolded Doug kept a close eye on his partner, but as Hanson watched the young boy being led away in a state of absolute panic, he didn't even blink. His face was impassive and calm. He simply stood there with his hands in his pockets awaiting his turn.

As they neared the front of the queue, under the pretence of trying to look past the entrance, Tom leaned over and quietly gave Doug his instructions.

"Remember what I said about drawing attention to yourself?"

"Yeah"

"Forget it. I'll go through first and once I'm clear draw as much attention as you like."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get our guns back" he said matter of factly.

Being too used to trusting him after so long, Doug asked no further questions and watched as Tom stepped forward to go into the building, breathing a sigh of relief when he got through the metal detector with no problems.

"Ok you next" the middle aged woman motioned to Hanson. Mrs Morton was a short stocky lady with wispy blonde hair and thick black rimmed glasses. She had been Greenwood High's English teacher and vice principle for nearly twenty years and, despite her underwhelming appearance, was as tough as old boots.

"I'm no expert, but I know my rights and I'm not sure this is legal." he said with a smug grin on his face.

"Well' I'm afraid due to the circumstances, it's necessary. Now please come here and stand with your hands on the wall and legs apart."

"Now I **know** that's not legal!" he said flashing a wry smile.

"Trust me Mr..."

"McQuaid."

"Mr McQuaid you have nothing that I would want to see."

"Don't be so sure" he winked.

"Today please." she snapped giving him an icy stare. Hanson instantly felt sorry for the students who had to deal with this woman, and, suitably contrite he did as he was asked. However he couldn't help thinking that this woman wasn't finding this task as distasteful as she seemed to make out.

"Careful. That's sensitive equipment." he smirked as the woman ran her hands up the inside of his leg, before moving up to his arms. "That's not so sensitive but I am quite ticklish" he giggled.

Doug stood watching this with a twinkle in his eye, that is until she reached her hand into the tattered jacket and pulled out Tom's badge.

"What's this?" she said weighing it in her hand,

"That's my wallet." Hanson replied as if he was talking to a three year old.

"Ok, keep moving" she said as she thrust it back into his hand with a withering glare.

Doug was still deep in thought, trying to come up with an appropriate diversion when he noticed Mrs Morton was beckoning him forward. He threw a brief glance towards Hanson, who was loitering around the table where the confiscated weapons were sat. What the hell was he doing? That kid had probably never even seen a gun in his life. Now at the very least he was going to get thrown out of school. Shrugging his shoulders he took a step forwards and to his relief passed with no alarms or flashing lights.

"Turn round" she barked at him as he stood gazing down at her.

"What's wrong ma'am. Didn't you get enough out of my brother?" Doug leered at the poor woman who simply let out a frustrated sigh.

"I told them this wouldn't work" she said under her breath before glaring at Doug. "Look, we have classes to get started so could we please just get on with it?"

"Hey slow down. I'm good I assure you, but a guy needs time to get going you know" he said drawing laughter from the surrounding students.

"Don't worry I'd only be disappointed." she replied. "Just emptying your pockets will be fine. That's not too demanding is it?" Doug looked over to where Hanson was standing, he was beginning to get impatient and looked back at Doug as if to say get on with it.

"I'm not emptying anything. You think that just because I'm not dressed fancy like the rest of you it gives you the right to harass me?"

"Everyone is being searched Mr McQuaid." she said wearily.

"This is illegal search and seizure. We know our rights. You can't do this." then he turned to the queue behind him and began to shout. "Are we gonna stand for this? Are we just going to stand here in silence while they violate our basic human rights?"

"NO!" the crowd called back.

"It's in the constitution that we can all own a gun. Should they be allowed to just disregard the bill of rights?" Doug said raising his hands in the air.

"HELL NO!"

"We have to uphold the constitution brothers and sisters!" he said climbing onto the railings by the stairway. The surrounding students cheered as the supervising faculty members attempted to restore some kind of order.

"Please settle down!" Mrs Morton yelled at the top of her voice.

"Now she's trying to suppress our right to free speech!" Doug called. "Brothers and sisters we must overthrow these oppressors. Do I hear an Amen?"

"AMEN" came the thunderous roar.

Hanson drifted around the table watching in amusement as Doug got the crowd chanting protect the constitution at the top of their voices thinking that life as McQuaid wasn't that bad. When he was sure that everyone's attention was focused away from him he reached out slowly, grabbed the two .38's and quickly deposited them back in his pocket. Waving to Doug to signal that mission was accomplished he smiled to himself at the scene before him and headed away from the crowd.

"Mr McQuaid, will you please come down from there and stop this nonsense." Mrs Norton barked, backed up by one of the other teachers, a man of around six foot three who must have weighed at least 300 pounds.

Doug's eyes flicked to where he saw his partner waving to him and seeing that the job was done he shrugged his shoulders and jumped down from the railings.

"What the hell. I'm not that bothered anyway. You wanted me to empty my pockets right?" he asked smiling.

"Yes please" she snapped.

"Here you are" he said as he dumped the contents of his pockets into her hands. She looked in disgust at the empty gum wrappers, matchbooks and half eaten lolly, which he had confiscated from Clavo at breakfast that morning, before holding up his badge.

"Your wallet?" she asked cautiously.

"Yep."

"Identical to your brothers?"

"Hey, mom gets what she can afford ok. They were on sale, two for the price of one."

"Do you and brother come with the same deal?" the young girl at the front of the queue asked suggestively. Doug laughed and turned to look to where Tom was hovering waiting for him.

"You couldn't handle the both of us" he winked.

"Ok Mr McQuaid, that's enough entertainment for one morning, go join your first class" Mrs Morton barked as she returned Doug's things and ushered him away. He walked towards Hanson with a bright grin spread across his face as the crowd behind him continued their chanting.

"How was that?" he asked.

"Perfect" Tom smiled. "Told you we'd get by somehow."

"Shame we had to set an innocent kid up for a fall" he said becoming much more serious. "What the hell were you doing?"

"I told you I was going to get our guns back."

"That poor kid had no idea what was going on. You've probably just ruined his life."

"Saved someone else the bother then didn't I?" he said under his breath.

"What?"

"Relax Doug. It worked didn't it? Anyway, it's not a problem. We put a call into Fuller, he explains what happened and the kids in the clear."

"Oh, no problem at all then" Doug retorted sarcastically. "What do you plan on doing when the notice the guns aren't there anymore?"

"We'll come up with something."

"Oh, it's that simple is it? You better think of another way of doing this cos I'm not going through that every morning."

"What do you suggest? Sneaking in through the window in the toilets?"

"It'd be easier than this?"

"You think so?" Tom said, eyebrows raised as he looked Doug up and down.

"That's below the belt Thomas!"

"Only telling it like it is man. Stop sulking and let's go find Harry." he smiled as they went in search of their partner. They were half way down the hallway when Hanson suddenly stopped and, rooted to the spot, began looking around like a hunted animal.

_"I'm disappointed in you Tommy". _He hadn't heard that voice since he was 16 years old. All these years he would have done anything just to hear that voice one more time, now it sent panic and fear running through his veins. _"You're meant to be protecting these kids"_ He screwed his eyes shut and when he opened them Doug was looking at him intently as he called out to him.

"Hanson? You Ok?"

"Yeah" he said trying to sound bright and unconcerned but not being quite able to stop his voice from shaking. "Come on. We've still got a job to do here." Doug followed behind, his expression puzzled and slightly concerned.


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh my god" the young oriental man called brightly as he saw the two figures headed towards him. The other boy stood with him whirled round to see what was going on.

"Hey, long time no see!" the larger of the two newcomers bellowed as he grabbed 'Harry Park's' hand.

"I heard you guys we're transferring in. When did you get here?"

"Just now. We would have been here sooner but we had a few problems with Hitler's less pleasant sister."

"Yeah, that caught me by surprise too." Harry said trying to communicate his apology with his eyes.

"So what's it all for?" Doug asked for the benefit of Ioki's young companion.

"Shearer's convinced himself someone's set up a gun shop on campus." the blond boy informed them. "As if anyone in this school could get away with dealing guns. Half of them can't even tie their own shoelaces."

"They just let them walk in with guns?" Doug said 'shocked'.

"Had them hid right in their backpacks" Harry said with a smile and shaking his head.

"This place is starting to get interesting already." said the smaller of the two. "Our old partner in crime and a handy gun supply." he finished with a grin.

"Oh sorry, Chris Tyler" Ioki said emphasising the name, "This is Doug and Tommy McQuaid." The young man looked at them, disbelief plastered over his face.

"These are the guys you've been telling everyone about?" he scoffed as he eyed the scruffy pair. The larger 'brother' looked like a giant teddy bear with his fair hair sticking out in all directions and carrying a bit too much around his middle. Even though he was quite an imposing figure Tyler found it hard to believe that he could pose any danger to anyone. As for the smaller one, well, he looked about as dangerous as cotton wool. Built like a twig, with his overgrown dark hair flopping down over the ludicrous bandanna and his too young and too pretty face.

"Yep. These are them. It's just a shame I can't stick around this time."

"You're kidding" Doug burst out.

"Fraid not. I'm transferring out tomorrow. Dad's being moved again."

"Better make the most of it then." Doug said with a wicked glint in his eye.

"What are you planning?" Harry asked warily.

"Ah, patience is a virtue my friend."

"You guys really hijack Westside's bus?"

"Yeah." Tommy stated matter of factly as Tyler continued to look sceptically at the slight figure of the younger McQuaid.

"Seriously?"

"Yes" Tommy said very slowly as this boy was obviously a little slow and these complex one syllable words are difficult. God, he was sick of high school and everything about it.

"He's much more dangerous than he looks." Doug chimed in. "Like Transformers. More than meets the eye". Tom and Harry shot matching looks of disgust at their friend.

"I'm sure he is." Tyler said laughing. Then as the bell rang for first period the teen turned with the rest and filed into the classroom. When he was safely inside out of earshot Ioki and Hanson rounded on him.

"Transformers? Really?" Tom said eyeing his best friend with amusement.

"Clavo has them." Doug replied defensively.

"Of course he does" Tom said patting him patronisingly on the back as he passed him.

"What?" Doug asked offended as he turned to Harry.

"Don't worry about it" Ioki said before gesturing towards the door and with laughter in his dark eyes said "Lets roll out". Doug's eyes widened and he pointed an accusatory finger at his friend.

"You like them too!" he said triumphantly as he followed Harry through the door.

The 'McQuaid's' took their usual seats at the back of the classroom. Already having made an impression with their display that morning awed whispers passed between the male students as they passed by, while the girls grabbed not so discreet glances at the brothers, giggling with their friends as Doug and Tom made their way to the back.

Shortly after the class had taken their seats Mrs Morton, looking extremely harassed, entered the room demanding calm and silence.

"Ok, please take out your copies of The Tempest and we'll pick it up from where we left it last week.

This was followed by numerous groans from around the room while the three officers at the back exchanged pained glances. Why did it always have to be Shakespeare?

"Douglas" Mrs Morton called out, bringing Penhall's head snapping round to face her. "As you seem to enjoy having an audience, perhaps you'd like to read the part of Ariel for us."

"No, that's ok. I don't mind sitting this one out and letting someone else have the spotlight. Anyway, I don't have a book."

"Don't worry, you can use mine." Harry offered as he swapped a mischievous glance with Hanson, who was finding it difficult not to smile at the idea of Penhall performing Shakespeare. Doug glared at Ioki before turning back to Mrs Morton.

"I ain't no fairy" he said raising his hands in a dismissive gesture.

"He's a spirit Mr McQuaid. And as you seem to be familiar with the character you'll have no problem reading his lines will you?"

"Shall I call your agent?" Hanson asked under his breath as Doug stood to take the floor.

"Maybe you'd like to join your brother Thomas." Mrs Morton snapped.

"Ears like a bat, man" Tyler turned and whispered from his seat in front of Tom. Hanson smiled nervously as he looked back at the older woman.

"I'd love to, but I suffer from awful stage fright. It's a terrible affliction." he said giving her his best lost puppy eyes.

"Lucky for Shakespeare" she said trying to fight back a smile. "Mr Park, I'm determined to have you participate once in this class and as this is my last chance you can read Prospero".

With identical feelings of impending doom, Penhall and Ioki made their way to the front of the class. Tom watched on holding back hysterical laughter as his partner pranced about the front of the classroom, his voice reaching high notes he didn't know existed unless someone had kicked you hard in a very delicate area, while Harry was doing his utmost to deliver an Oscar worthy performance of the old magician Prospero, his heavily accented voice delivering the lines with over the top gravitas. By the time he had recited four lines Doug had managed to nearly send all the contents of Mrs Morton's desk spilling to the floor and nearly thrown Harry back over the first row of desks. But, Tom supposed, it was probably unlikely that a 200 plus pound fairy was ever going to be graceful. However, his smile faded and his laughter died down as he listened to the words his partners were delivering so eloquently. Eventually, probably fearing for her own safety, Mrs Morton decided the performance had gone on long enough.

"Thank you Douglas. I think Mr Shakespeare will be quite dizzy enough from spinning in his grave now, you may sit down." Doug bowed theatrically as the rest of the classroom responded with enthusiastic applause. "Can anyone tell me what Shakespeare was trying to say in that passage?"

"Don't ask me lady" Doug bellowed, now having regained his seat. "That didn't even sound like English to me. Was Shakespeare Japanese?"

"McQuaid number 2?" she asked, ignoring Doug and the many snickers his comments had produced. Tom looked back at her, his face blank, lost in his thoughts.

_"You're not going to answer that are you?"_

"Why not?"

_"Cos that's what Tom Hanson would do."_

"Fine. Then what would Tommy McQuaid do?"

_"Why don't you try doing what Tommy Hanson would have done?"_

"What?"

_"You don't remember how do you?"_

"Fuck you Tommy. Both of you". he thought as he turned his attention back to the woman looking impatiently back at him.

"Dreams are fleeting and changeable, and like spells they don't always turn out how you planned. But without them you're nothing." he said dully.

"Nice interpretation Mr McQuaid." Mrs Morton said, sounding pleasantly surprised, as Doug and Harry turned to their friend looking totally bewildered. "Now, in this scene Shakespeare..."

As he lowered his head to rest on the desk and the teachers words drifted over his head everything began to seem misty and far away, like he was walking through fog. Suddenly he realised that he was no longer in the classroom. He span round frantically trying to make out his surroundings when he saw a figure walking towards him. The face had become slightly distorted over the years and it wasn't until the figure spoke that he realised who it was.

"Tommy?"

"Dad?" he said uncertainly as he squinted his eyes to peer through the now clearing fuzziness that seemed to have clouded his vision.

"It's good to see you kid."

"What's going on?"

"I wanted to see my boy. Nothing wrong with that is there?"

"No. I just didn't expect to see you, with the whole you being dead thing."

"Death's just a state of mind sport." he said lightly.

"I've really missed you."

"I know. You've not done too well without me have you Tommy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, to be honest you've let me down pretty badly."

"What?" he said almost laughing.

"I thought you were going to be a police officer and follow in your old mans footsteps."

"I did."

"What you do isn't being a cop. All you do is lie and cheat your way through life and hide behind made up names."

"I'm an undercover cop Dad. That's how it works."

"And taking advantage of vulnerable and trusting kids, is that how it works too?"

"I don't do that."

"That's not what I've heard Tommy." he said shaking his head sadly.

"Well you heard wrong." he snapped.

"I saw what you did out there this morning. Do you even care what's going to happen to the boy?"

"Nothing's going to happen. We'll get it straightened out."

"He's not the only one you've hurt though is he? Who's Kenny Wheckerly?"

"No one."

"And Amy Pearson and Ronnie Seebok? Are they nobody?"

"I didn't..."

"How many other lives have you ruined?"

"Hey" he shouted as his anger bubbled below the surface "All I ever did is what people asked of me."

"I asked you to take care of your mother didn't I?"

"Yes, and I have."

"Tommy you broke her heart."

"What?"

"Getting yourself locked up. How stupid could you be? Have you any idea what that did to her?"

"That wasn't my fault." he said now feeling like he was that frightened sixteen year old again.

"How many times did I tell you to think before you act? Huh? How do you think that makes me look? My son an ex convict."

"I was innocent. Anyway it's over now."

"You really think so? Tommy, it's hanging round you like a bad smell. It's in your blood, flowing through your veins like poison choking you to death. I can see it in your eyes." he said moving closer and closer to his frightened son who was staring up at him violently shaking his head. The image of Tom Hanson Snr reached out and grabbed hold of his son's wrists, turning his hands so his palms were facing upwards.

"Can't you see how filthy they are with all the blood you've spilt?" Tom opened his mouth to defend himself but his father cut his words dead before they even left his lips. "You might not have done it yourself, but you know you're responsible don't you?"

"I don't believe that, and neither do you." he replied, his voice small and shaking.

"You believe it, son. That's why you're walking round day after day like the living dead, why you have to remind yourself how to breathe and why you go to sleep every night hoping that maybe this time you won't wake up."

"Stop it" he said in barely a whisper.

"That's why you refuse to let the ones you love get too close. You're poison Tommy"

"SHUT UP" he screamed as he covered his ears and screwed his eyes shut.

"The truth hurts doesn't it." the figure before him spat. His eyes flew open and as he stared in the direction the voice was coming from he was no longer looking into the face of his long dead father. He was now looking into the glazed and cold eyes of Ronnie Seebok. For some reason he was foaming at the mouth as he slowly but steadily backed the frightened young officer into the wall that somehow hadn't been there before.

"It would be so much easier you know. Come with me. It won't hurt." said the oddly alien voice. "Or you could go with them."

"We got plans for you little fish!" what seemed like thousands of voices called from behind him.

Fear ran up his spine and without one glance behind him and a look of abject terror on his face he pushed past the ghostly figure and ran as fast as he could.

"You can't run from the truth sport!" he heard the voice calling from behind him." Where are you going Tommy?"

"Tommy!" he heard another voice calling and he sat up with a start. Trying to find the source of this new voice, he looked round and was relieved to see Mrs Morton's angry face looking back at him. "I'm sorry if we're keeping you up but we do have a lot to get through."

He glanced around the classroom nervously and saw a number of amused faces looking back at him, and the concerned and puzzled faces of Doug and Harry, their eyes seeming to look straight through him. He smiled nervously as he regained his composure.

"Sorry Ma'am, was I snoring?"

"Not this time. I know The Tempest isn't the most engaging of Shakespeare's works, but I would appreciate it if you wouldn't scream at me to shut up in front of my class Mr McQuaid." Tom smiled back nonchalantly, trying to hide his confusion and unease as the laughter from some of the students echoed in his ears.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey!" Doug said grabbing hold of the back of Tom's tattered denim jacket as he hurried down the corridor. "What happened in there?"

"Fell asleep." he answered matter of factly not slowing his pace.

"Stop!" Doug hissed in his ear. He ground to a halt causing Doug to have to pull up as Harry slammed into the back of him. "You've been acting wired all day, man. Back there, setting that kid up this morning.."

"It's the only way I could see of getting our guns past the detectors, which" he said turning to Harry, "No one warned us about."

"I didn't know ok. I walked into it this morning just as surprised as you. How could I warn you about something I didn't know?" On hearing this Hanson had to take a deep breath to suppress the anger that was suddenly boiling up inside him. He had said those exact words to Doug and Harry when Quincy Thompson and her gang had set them up. They hadn't accepted that from him, so why should he?

_"Because Harry wouldn't do that. He's not like you."_

"Ok. I'm sorry" he said impatiently.

_"There's that word again. You know it gets kinda meaningless when you use it as often as you do."_

"So." Doug pressed.

"What?"

"That little episode in there."

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. The neighbours brought their new baby home. I just fell asleep. Anyway, Shakespeare always gave me nightmares, and I hate to be the one to tell you this Doug, but you don't make a very attractive fairy." he said grinning up at his friend, the slight sparkle returning to his eyes.

"Oh, that's just cold!" Doug replied putting his arm around Tom's shoulders and leading him down the hallway as he proceeded to inform him of his deeply hidden acting prowess. Harry followed them watching after Hanson nervously. He noticed how easily he had manipulated Doug into dropping the subject, how easily he always convinced Doug everything was ok, and decided to make it his job to keep an eye on them both.

Suddenly as they passed the locker room, a small scrawny figure shot by them and bolted through the door followed by a larger, bulkier blonde blur. Doug looked over at his partner as an ominous smile spread over his face.

"Here we go again." Tom thought as he followed his large friend through the locker room door throwing a long suffering glance in Harry's direction, who, smiling shook his head and waited for the fireworks.

As they entered the room they were met by the sight of Chris Tyler holding a skinny dark haired kid by the neck as the poor boy, looking like a rabbit being held in the jaws of huge dog, pulled out a number of $20 bills from his pocket.

"Come on Casey. That's not going to be enough. How am I going to buy my date a drink huh?"

"Maybe you should try getting a job." Casey squeaked.

"That's not the right answer. I thought we were friends Casey. Friends share you know."

"Now would you look at that." Doug bellowed his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. "The children are playing nicely together."

"You so very rarely see that these days, what with all the youth gang culture and such." Tom said sagely.

"Why don't you guys beat it huh? Me and my buddy have some business to attend to."

"Looks like extortion to me." Doug said.

"You and your scrawny little side kick got a problem with that."

"You might have." Tom said "You see, my bother, god bless him, has a tendency to loose his temper when he sees someone dogging a kid half his size. And he really does have a terrible temper."

"I think the doctor called it anger management problems." Doug said to his 'brother'.

"Thank you Douglas. Now I don't like violence myself..." 'Tommy' continued.

"That's not what I heard. I heard you shot a guy."

"I don't like violence, but there is only so far you can push me."

"What did he do then?"

"He called me scrawny!" Tom said, his tone shocked and offended. Tyler swallowed hard.

"What are you going to do?" he asked nervously.

"Oh I don't know." Doug said sounding thoughtful as he looked around the room and his eyes landed on the row of hangers on the wall. "You know I was hung from one of those once."

"Do you think it's more fun when you're the hanger rather than the hangee?" Tom asked

"Should we find out?"

"By all means." Tom said with a smile. "But, you know, that shirt does look awfully expensive Doug."

"I see what you mean. It would be a shame if it got ruined."

"Yes it would. Why don't you take it off and we'll fold it up neatly so it doesn't stretch?" he suggested to Tyler.

"What?"

"You heard my brother." Doug said advancing on the teen and before long he was passing the shirt over to his partner.

"Nice vest!" Tom said smirking, "Is your momma worried you'll catch cold."

"Kiss my ass!" Tyler spat.

"Hey Tommy, I've been thinking."

"Well done. Keep practicing."

"Thank you. As I was saying" he continued, "If we leave him hanging around in here those pants could really start to chaff those sensitive areas."

"Good thinking" Tom said making a show of wincing at the thought.

"Better take the pants off too." Doug smiled. Before long Doug had thrown the teens trousers into the corner of one of the stalls and Tyler was stood in the centre of the room in his vest and boxers surrounded by the McQuaids, looking thoughtful, and a giggling Casey who was clearly enjoying every moment of his tormentors humiliation.

"How's that?" Doug asked

"I think he'll be quite comfortable now. Hoist away Douglas." Tom said, waving his hands dramatically. Before he knew what was happening, Tyler found himself lifted off his feet and slammed non to gently against the wall. Then as Doug released his grip he found his feet dangling in mid air and his vest pulling slightly round his chest.

"What do you think?"

"Perfect." Tom said smiling up at the struggling boy. "You've outdone yourself Douglas."

"Ok, guys, you can let me down now." Tyler said laughing nervously.

"I don't know about you" Doug said turning to Hanson, "But dealing out justice makes me hungry."

"Lunch it is then." Then turning to Casey he put his arm around the kids shoulder. "What do you say Casey, you feel like lunch." He nodded his head and allowed them to lead him back out into the corridor leaving Tyler struggling and yelling after them.

"I don't get it." Casey said nervously scrutinising the bedraggled pair as they entered the hallway. "Why would guys like you help me? What's in it for you?"

"We'll let you know" Doug said slyly as he patted Casey on the back. Shooting the 'brothers' a suspicious glance he shot into the cafeteria, leaving the door swinging behind him.

"What do you think you're going to get out of him?" Tom asked accusingly.

"Well, he carries round a lot of dough doesn't he?"

"You're not seriously going to take money from that kid."

"Hey, I'm just a lowly paid public servant and my kids gotta eat you know." Doug said lightly.

"You're a sick man my brother." Tom smiled shaking his head as he grabbed the swinging door and ushered his partner through.

No sooner than they had located Harry and were about to vacate a table as only the McQuaid's can Mr Shearer, the Greenwood principle who at once reminded Hanson of an army drill sergeant, stormed into the cafeteria followed by a number of faculty members. None of them looking too pleased.

"Can I have your attention please." Shearer called out over the hurried whispers that at once began going around the room, "Two guns that were confiscated from a student this morning have gone missing. No one is to leave this room until they have been searched, and I don't care if it takes all day."

On hearing this Doug shot a panicked look towards his partner, in fact Tom was pretty sure that Doug's head might explode at any given moment.

"Can everyone please have their bags open ready on the table and take off all jackets and hats." Mr Shearer continued. Tom, Doug and Harry slowly got to their feet casting nervous glances around the room.

"What are we going to do?" Doug hissed as both he and Harry looked desperately towards Hanson. Automatically his mind began to work at finding them a way out. He weighed and rejected numerous possibilities before he began to feel extremely angry with himself.

_"You're doing it again. Good old Hanson, he'll sort it all out, why should we bother."_

"Do whatever you want." he said casually as he placed his gun in Penhall's hand. "I got the things in here. It's your problem now. Or have you forgotten how to think for yourselves." he spat as he spun and headed towards the door and, after being searched on his way out, left Doug and Harry sat staring stupidly in his wake.

Harry had been surprised to say the least as he watched his friend walk away. After dumping his gun in Doug's hand it was as if he didn't have a care in the world. Unlike himself and Penhall, who now found themselves stranded with three guns and no way out without them being found. He looked over at Doug who looked like he had just had the wind knocked out of him, hurt, confusion and anger taking turns to drift across his features.

"What just happened?"

"I have no idea." Doug replied distantly.

"He's being acting real strange recently." he began. "He really tore into Hoffs earlier and there was definitely something going on back there. What the hell kind of dream causes that reaction so fast."

"He's ok." Doug said sounding like he was trying to reassure himself rather than Harry. "He's just stressed."

"Doug, he's as good as blown our cover. I don't see him looking too sorry about it, do you?"

"You're not the only one who's had it rough lately Harry." Doug snapped.

"I know." Harry said defensively. "So what do we do?"

"Give him time, he'll come round."

"I mean about the guns Doug."

"Can we toss them somewhere?"

"Not without being seen." Harry sighed. Then an idea occurred to him. "Doug, give them all to me."

"What? Are you nuts?"

"It makes sense. I'm being pulled out anyway remember. May as well go out in style." he grinned. Reluctantly Doug passed the Harry the guns and he had just successfully secured them in his jacket when Mr Shearer placed a hand on Doug's shoulder.

"Can you step away from the table please son." he said looking seriously into the young officers eyes, no doubt having heard about Doug's performance that morning.

"No problem sir." he smiled jumping to his feet.

"Empty your pockets please." Sighing, once again, Doug brought out the unsavoury contents of his jeans pocket and dumped them on the table. After giving the young man a look of absolute revulsion the older man began running his hands up and down over the officer's ample frame.

"You guys enjoy this don't you?" he said smirking. "I wonder what social services would make of all this."

"May I see your jacket please." Shearer said turning to Harry, making a point of ignoring Doug. Harry smiled uncomfortably as he handed it over and prepared for the inevitable. Sure enough Mr Shearer pulled out the offending items almost immediately.

"I think you'd better come with me." he said eyeing Harry intently.

"Sure" Harry said offering and insolent and totally unconcerned grin as he was led away, Doug stood watching him, slightly relived as he disappeared through the door.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ok guys" Fuller began as they walked into his office later that day. "I'm getting serious pressure form the mayor's office on this one so give me some good news."

"We've only been in there a day." Doug said irritated, Mayor Davis not being one of their favourite people.

"Look at it from his point of view, Doug. We've had officers in there for nearly a month."

"Nothing more to tell you than what we already know, coach." Tom explained. "We've got a school full of kids who like to play with machine guns and a principle who's so paranoid that he puts a metal detector at the front door."

"Yeah, it kinda took us by surprise" Harry said through gritted teeth glaring at his partners.

"We're guessing he doesn't want to take any chances."

"You can't be too careful when automatic weapons are involved Penhall." Fuller began. "You guys ought to know that better than most."

"Why do you think I wanted out of this assignment captain?" Harry retorted angrily.

"We understand Harry" Tom said calmly in an attempt to stem the flow of his friend's anger, Harry just glared back at him, anger and confusion at his friend for walking out on them still bubbling below the surface. There was something else there too. He loved Harry, he really did, but every time he looked at him he was reminded of everything he was trying so hard to forget. Whenever he looked at Harry he couldn't help thinking that all this was his fault.

"_That's right, he got himself blown away just to mess you up. Come on Tommy, take responsibility for your own mistakes. Why don't you just say you're sorry then everything will be peachy again"_

"Any problems?" Fuller asked.

"Apart from Hanson?" Doug mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Fuller asked, his tone set warning lights flashing in his young officers.

"We had to find a way of getting our guns past the door. Our cover would have been right out of the window if they'd have found them."

_"That's your excuse for setting up some innocent kid?"_

"While we're on the subject coach, we kinda need to straighten things out with the principle, cos I planted our guns on someone else." Tom said chewing on his bottom lip.

_"Do you even know his name?"_

"You did what?" Fuller glared at him.

"It was the only way I could think of getting through." Hanson replied defensively while Doug shifted uncomfortably in his seat trying to avoid the eyes of his partner and commanding officer.

"Have you any idea how much damage you could have done to this programme. Planting weapons on children?! You don't think it might have been a better idea to leave them behind."

"I didn't really have much time to think about it" he snapped, slightly angry that his supposed best friend was making no attempt to back him up.

_"And why do you think that is? Maybe cos you were wrong, he knows it and so do you. Anyway why should he back you up when you screwed them over?"_

"And you knew about this?" Fuller said turning on Penhall.

"Hey, he asked for my gun and I gave it to him. That's as far as my involvement goes." he said as he felt Hanson's angry eyes burning into him.

"How long have you worked for the police department Doug?" Fuller said angrily. "You know partners are responsible for each other in the field."

"_And now your partners taking the rap for your screw up. Again!"_

"Captain..." Tom began.

"Save it Hanson. What's the kid's name? I'll try and sort this out."

"I don't know. But how many kids do you think were found with two .38's in their pocket this morning." Tom said sarcastically.

_"If it hadn't been for you, none."_

"Let's get one thing straight Hanson. If your weapon is in danger of blowing your cover you get rid of it, you don't plant it on a juvenile." Fuller spat, his eyes boring straight into the young officer. "Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"As the principle is determined that no guns are getting onto that campus I think we should respect that. From now on you go in unarmed."

"You're sending us to look for someone dealing automatic weapons unarmed?" Doug asked in disbelief.

"No one on campus is going to have one Penhall so why would you need one?" Fuller said, daring anyone to challenge him. Doug looked sulkily across at his partner and collapsed back into his seat.

"Captain, I really don't think that's necessary." Harry began.

"It's not your problem any more is it Harry? You wanted off this case and now you are." Fuller replied.

"How did you get past them?" Doug asked Harry trying to lighten the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Climbed through the window in the bathroom." he replied as Doug smiled sarcastically at his partner and Tom rolled his eyes in return.

"Now, if it's not to much trouble can we get back to the situation in hand please? Anything to report on Chris Tyler?"

"Don't really know that much about him yet" Harry replied, "He's just kind of an acquaintance. I never really got that close."

"Yeah, he was just sort of hanging around" Hanson said lightly, raising a loud bark of laughter from his partner.

"What's so funny Doug?" Fuller asked, his voice dangerously sweet.

"Nothing sir. Bad cough." he replied nervously.

"You two keep an eye on him." he said to Penhall and Hanson.

"That shouldn't be too hard." Doug said with a smile.

"Listen guys' it's a miracle no one's been seriously hurt here. I don't want that to happen, to you or any one else, so let's find this guy quick ok? Then I won't have to answer Davis' phone calls" he said under his breath as the three young officers stifled knowing smiles.

"Perks of the job huh, Captain?" Harry said with a crooked smile.

"One I don't want to have to exercise too often, so get me off the hook here fella's and find who's behind this."

"Okey Dokey."

"Off you go then!" Fuller said impatiently. As the three men left the room he called out from behind them. "Hanson?"

"Yes Captain?"

"I don't want to hear that you've put this programme in jeopardy again do you understand me?"

"Yes sir."

"Get out of here. Thanks to you I have a few things to sort out."

After they left Fullers office, Doug and Harry headed straight for their desks, trying to look busy, while Hanson ran straight into the figure of Judy Hoffs. After exchanging uncomfortable glances she turned and began to walk away. Unable to bear her being angry at him he decided to follow her and try to set things right.

"Judy, can I talk to you?" he said hurrying after her.

"Yeah."

"Feeling better?" he asked her sheepishly.

"Yes thank you." she said not slowing her pace.

"Look, I shouldn't have gone off at you this morning. You were upset and I should have been more understanding."

"You usually are" she said turning to face him, her eyes probing and searching, like they were looking right into him.

But then she had always seemed to be able to see right through him. When Amy was killed Judy had been the one to try and take him in hand and get him help. Doug had told him months ago that when he was in hiding after Towers murder she had insisted that if he hadn't killed him, he wouldn't have run. She had been right. He had been so convinced himself that he had killed Tower that he was afraid to show his face. It seemed she knew him inside and out and all he had ever wanted to do was protect her. When she had told him what Evan Roberts had done it took every ounce of self control not to go out and find the bastard and tear his throat out. The only thing that had been stronger than his anger during that time had been the overwhelming desire to pull her into his arms and hold her until it all washed away. But he hadn't been able to do that, he couldn't make it better for her. All he'd been able to do was sit outside her place all night feeling helpless and useless. Then when those thugs had attacked them during their case at Lincoln he hadn't been strong enough to fight them off her, he hated to think what would have been going through her mind. How could he protect anyone when even the sound of a door slamming shut sent waves of panic through him? Now he'd hurt her too, he couldn't get her face as he berated her out of his mind. No, he couldn't be what she needed.

"Will you tell me what's bothering you?" she said softly.

"There's nothing bothering me."

"That why you ripped my head off this morning?"

"I don't know why I reacted like that. I'm sorry." he said softly. Honestly he really didn't know why.

_"Yes you do. It's because she reminds you who you used to be and how it feels to really be alive."_

"It's ok, don't worry about it" she said uncomfortably. "Things have been tough for us all lately. We're all allowed to let it out once in a while. Anyway, you were right..."

He stood there watching her lips move but not really hearing what she was saying. As always, just making excuses for any behaviour that didn't fit their image of him. He found himself wondering vaguely when they had stopped listening to what he was actually saying. Probably around the same time he stopped listening to them. But if he loved this girl shouldn't he be hanging on her every word? Isn't that the way it works? Maybe he was just looking for excuses and he really didn't care. Suddenly her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, are you alright?" she said worried. "You looked like you were miles away."

_"You should be so lucky."_

"I'm fine."

_"Like that word around here don't you?"_

"You don't look so good, Hanson."

"I'm just tired." he said softly.

_"After nearly 12 hours sleep? How does that work then?"_

"Hanson, will you promise me something?"

"Sure"

"Take really good care of yourself. Please." she said gently placing her hand on his arm.

_"That's a good one. After all, who else is gonna bother."_

"Ok. Don't worry, everything's fine."

"As long as you're sure" she said looking at him strangely before kissing him on the cheek and heading back to her desk.

He stood watching her for a moment thinking how ridiculous this was. They were both single adults, why had they been tip toeing round each other for so long. Sure they were work mates, but there was no rule saying they couldn't be more.

_"You're no good for her, you'll hurt her just like you do everyone else."_

"Even Hitler was allowed a bit of happiness" he mumbled and purposefully walked over to Judy's desk. She looked up, her expression somewhere between startled and hopeful.

"What?" she asked warily

"Go out to dinner with me later."

"Dinner?"

"Yeah. You go to a restaurant, they sit you at a table give you a menu, you tell them what you want, they bring it, you eat it." he said with a smile.

"I know what dinner is thank you Hanson. I'm just a little surprised."

"Good surprised?"

"I'll let you know."

"Is that a yes?"

"I don't know Hanson. Haven't we tried this before?" she said wearily. That summer they had been reassigned they had made a promise to get together. Of course they never did. Not that they didn't want to, but life gets busy and time passes you by. She had found time to look Hanson up though and, as the demands of officer milk carton were relatively few and Hanson's fascinating position behind a desk at headquarters not being very taxing, they had ended up spending quite a lot of time together. Free from the pressures of working together their harmless friendly flirting blossomed into something more and the times they weren't together she found herself thinking about him and missing him more and more each time.

However, as the weeks went on and she tried to take their relationship, or whatever it was, further he would back off and look guilty and every time she tried to get him to talk to her about where they were going he would become distant and restless. The truth was for some reason, despite the fact he had said goodbye and tried to let her go, he felt like he had been betraying Amy. That he should get to be happy while she lay rotting in some cold wooden box was so completely wrong that even when thinking about Judy brought a smile to his face he felt sick and guilty. In the end they had simply let it go and tried to go back to how it was before. By the time they were called back to Jump Street Judy had thought they were fine, that they had both moved on. But she soon realised that this wasn't entirely true. She had argued with Tom about Booker, accusing him of being jealous and he in turn throwing back his own hurtful allegations. She still saw the hurt in his face and heard the sadness in his voice when she had told him it was none of his business. Eventually they had been able to get things straight between them, but there was always something there with Hanson that wasn't there with Harry or Doug. She now found herself wandering if this was such a good idea.

"Judy, I just want to buy you dinner. Ok." he said softly.

_"You knew she was too smart to get involved with you, why are you so surprised?"_

"Sure, why not" she said with a shrug, inside however her stomach was in knots, excitement and fear running through her in turn. She had known for a while now why none of the guys she had dated came up to scratch. She had been comparing them to Hanson for years. Sure the guy was distant, defensive, stubborn, infuriating, but he was also one of the most decent and caring people she had ever known. He had been there for her when she felt no one else was. "What harm can it do?"

"Great." he smiled.

"I've got a few things to finish up here and then I'll be with you ok?"

"Ok". He stood rooted to the spot watching her and telling himself that this had just actually happened.

_"Not as smart as I thought then. She's making a mistake, man. Let her off the hook."_

"Shut up!"

"What?" Judy's voice drew his attention.

"Huh?"

"You said something."

"No I didn't" he said shaking his head as panic rose up his spine. Was he talking to himself now too?

"Er, Hanson?"

"Yeah?"

"I've got things to do." she said with a wry smile.

"Oh, sorry." he replied, laughing uncomfortably. "I'll leave you to it." he smiled and began walking over to his own desk.

_"You're going to screw this up as well, you know that don't you?"_

"You a fortune teller now?"

_"Just going on past experience. How many girls have you not messed around huh?"_

"Leave me alone."

Before he reached the safety of his desk he was accosted by his partner, who had a big daft grin spread across his face.

"I knew you had it in you!" he yelped.

"What?" Tom replied impatiently.

"You actually got the balls to ask Judy out didn't you?"

"What if I did?"

"Finally!"

"It's just dinner."

"Tonight its just dinner, tomorrow who knows."

"It's nice to know you support me in something _partner_" he snapped. "You could have backed me in there with Fuller."

"You mean like you backed me with the guns? You left us with no way out of there. What the hell was going through your mind?"

"_Why don't you tell him? Go on say it. I'm a selfish poisonous bastard who doesn't care as long as I don't have to deal with it."_

"More than was going through your mind I'm sure. When did you start expecting me to think for you? "

"I don't. We're partners, we're supposed to work together."

"Really? Well maybe next time you can start pulling your weight."

"Maybe I will. Maybe if I did we wouldn't have to explain your screw ups to Fuller every other day."

"What?" Tom said, his cold dark eyes flashing angrily.

"How many more times are you expecting me to take the fall for you man?"

"Remind me not to ask you for help when I'm really in trouble." he spat.

"You always come to me for help!" Doug called after him, frustration and hurt distorting his features.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews people :0x**

"You really know how to treat a lady don't you Hanson?" Judy quipped as they walked into one of the towns less exotic eateries. It looked like one of those awful country themed restaurants that, for some reason, people persisted in opening. All it was missing was the sawdust on the floor.

"I'm sorry. Amy and Jackie were always trying to get me to go to these fancy restaurants" he said thoughtfully looking round. "I could never get used to them. We can go if you want." he finished, suddenly thinking he should have made more of an effort.

"I don't want to go" Judy smiled.

"It could have been worse. We could have ended up at rocket dog."

"Well then this place is perfect."

"Anyway, after knowing me this long you'd have thought something was very wrong if I took you someplace decent."

"Oh, I'd have been highly suspicious." she replied, her smile so wide it seemed to him to light the room. What was someone like her doing here with him?

_"That's a good question. She's clever, sweet, caring, beautiful. What have you got to give her?"_

Probably nothing he thought to himself. She really was beautiful, he thought as he looked at her, the light playing on her hair and her eyes shining at him. How was it possible that she could look that way at him? He ran his hands through his hair, wishing he didn't look like something that had just crawled out of a hedge. Why was he so nervous? Jesus, it was only Judy, the girl he had seen nearly everyday for over four years. The only girl he had never felt uncomfortable around, the one he could talk to for hours about absolutely nothing. What if he did mess this up? What if he messed her up? What if he lost her?

_"What do you mean if?"_

"Hanson?" she said regaining his attention, her voice full of concern.

"Hmmm?"

"You ok?"

"Yeah, sure. What do you say we go see if any of these tables pass for clean?" he said in mock disgust. Walking over to the somehow baffling only empty table, Tom ran his finger over the surface and cringed as he held it out to Judy. "If this is anything to go by, we could be here a while."

"Doesn't matter. I don't have anywhere else I have to be" she smiled. He looked away nervously as he met her eyes. Then spotting one of the waiters he called out.

"Excuse me?"

"Just a minute" the waiter snapped.

"We just need this table wiping" he said calmly.

"And I said in a minute"

"Oh I'm sorry. My mistake. I thought that was part of your job."

"We're all allowed be wrong once in a while" the man said grinning sarcastically at him. Tom let out a small chuckle and ran his hand through his hair, before, quick as lightening, reaching out and grabbing the waiters arm and twisting it roughly behind his back before forcing the mans face into a particularly nasty looking stain on the table cloth. Ignoring Judy's gasps and worried expression, not to mention the numerous other people around the room who had stopped to watch, he leaned over close the waiter's ear.

"Listen carefully ok. I know this is very difficult to understand, but me and my friend would like to sit at a table where we can eat without catching some nasty little disease ok? So why don't you just run your little cloth over this and run along and bring us some menus? Or do I have to use force?"

"This is assault. I should call the cops" the waiter stammered.

"No need. We're already here." Hanson sneered throwing his badge on the table with his free hand. "Maybe I should call in health and safety and then you can explain to your boss how you got him closed down."

He jumped when he felt Judy's hand on his shoulder and turned his head to face her.

"Let him go" she said calmly pulling his hand away from the man's arm, while he looked back blankly at her.

"_Well that went better than I expected"_ came the sneering laughing voice as he watched the scene in front of him.

"Could you just clear this away please" she asked the waiter, who was looking quite shaken.

"Sure" he said before pulling off the tablecloth and scurrying away.

"You had a bad day Hanson?" Hoffs asked raising her eyebrows.

"No it's been great having my captain and my partners on my back" he snapped back.

"Hey" she said raising her hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm not getting on your case. But don't you think that was a bit extreme?"

Hanson had always had a temper, she knew that. Over the years though it had been overshadowed by biting sarcasm flying off an acid tongue. But just lately it had been surfacing more and more often.

"Yeah. I'm sorry" he said as the automatic shame drive kicked in. "Never mind, I'll leave him a good tip" he finished flashing her a crooked smile.

As the evening went on, his outburst seemingly forgotten as fast as it had happened, Judy sat opposite talking cheerfully at him, not seeming to notice he barely said a word, simply sat watching her. He almost felt normal, and had to stop himself wondering how long it would last. It didn't matter, nothing lasted forever, and the important thing was to enjoy the moment as it happened. He told himself that that's what he was going to do.

"I'm not sure this is safe." Judy said, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she looked at the alleged food the waiter had placed in front of her. Tom chuckled fondly as he looked at her.

"What?" she said defensively.

"I've never seen you do that thing with your nose before."

"What thing?"

"You scrunched your nose up, kinda like this." he said as he attempted to imitate Judy's expression.

"I don't look that ridiculous!" she said pretending to be offended.

"No, when you do it its cute." he said.

"What are we going to do about this?" she said, nervously trying to change the subject.

"We can always bust the cook for attempting to poison a police officer."

"Bit extreme don't you think. You could just give me yours."

"I'm not being responsible for giving you food poisoning."

"I'm a big girl, I can handle it."

"Maybe we should go to Rocket Dog" he whispered with a playful smile on his face.

"I'm fine just where I am. Food poisoning or not." she said smiling warmly at him. "Hanson, I want to tell you something."

"What?" he said as a panic stricken look crossed his face.

"Hey, relax!" she laughed. "It'd not that bad. At least I hope not. God I don't know where to start now." she said nervously. "I care about you a lot, you know that right…."

"Then I'm a lucky guy."

"Hanson, are you flirting with me?" she said smiling slyly, her train of though completely thrown.

"What if I am?"

"Then I'm a lucky girl." she replied.

She looked over at him as the light danced in his dark eyes, something that had been a rare occurrence lately, at times she could have sworn there was nothing there at all, like she was looking into the eyes of some waxwork. But not tonight. Overcome by some strange impulse she took his hand as she leaned over the table. She had barely brushed his lips with hers when he shot back like he had been bitten by some poisonous snake.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at her, a horrified expression on his face as his mind reeled, filled with images of cruel leering faces peering down on him, their rough hands reaching out for him.

"Hey, you asked me here ok. You were the one who thought this was a good idea. Don't do this to me again Hanson. I had enough of your games two years ago."

"My games?" he said, his eyes flashing dangerously. "What do you call parading your latest conquests around in front of me Judy?"

"What conquests? Hanson, what are you doing?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"I thought..." she began haltingly

"Thought what? That you'd go for the full set?" he yelled as the anger continuously bubbling underneath spilled to the surface.

"What?"

"Well, you've had Doug, you tried it on with Booker. Now you thought you'd take a shot at me?

"That's not how I meant it. Hanson, sit down, you're causing a scene" she said, disbelief and anger etched into her pretty features.

"Have you had a go at Blowfish yet? What about Fuller? It would make sense, with you being the only black and female detective on the force."

"How dare you!" she spat. "What the hell is wrong with you Hanson?"

"What's wrong with me? I'm tired of being used. By you and every other woman that I've ever met."

"How am I using you?" she asked. There it was again, that look people kept giving him, the one that said they thought he'd lost his mind.

_"Haven't you?"_

"Well you failed with the others, so you thought you go for the easy target. The one that was shut away surrounded by other men for months on end" he yelled as he grabbed hold of her wrist, seemingly oblivious to all the eyes staring in his direction. "Well I'm not that desperate Judy, and I'm no ones back up. Have you got that?" he fired at her before storming out and leaving her watching after him, sat rooted to the spot, trying to work out what had just happened.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He couldn't remember how he got home that night, couldn't remember parking his car, or even opening the door to his apartment, which he was surprised to find himself in. All he remembered was the sickness in his guts and the guilt that tore at him like a pack of starving wolves when Judy's face passed before his eyes. There was this amazing beautiful woman sat across from him, even trying to kiss him, and he had thrown it away again.

_"I told you it was a mistake. Told you to let her off the hook."_

"I didn't mean it. She knows I didn't" he replied, hating how small and childish he had begun to sound.

_"But you did mean it. All they've ever done is use you. Your mom used you to take care of things because she couldn't be bothered. You were her child, __**she**__ should have taken care of __**you**__!"_

"She was a mess, she needed me."

_"When has anyone really needed you?"_

"Stop it!"

_"Amy didn't need you, she needed a way to get you to join so she could get her recruitment numbers up, you told her that yourself remember."_

"That's not true!"

_"Jackie used you to gain brownie points with Davis. She didn't care about what happened to you, she just wanted to climb the ladder. You were just a step on the way up."_

"You think I don't know that?"

"_And the ones who don't want to use you just end up leaving you. They realise what a weak pathetic disappointment you are."_

"Stop it."

"_Your Dad knew. Got himself killed rather than see his kid grow into you."_

"My Dad loved me."

"_Really? Where is he now then? And Linda? She didn't love you. She loved Tommy, but you let them bury him."_

"Doug never left me" he said weakly, "He's always believed in me."

"_Doug likes having you around to pick up the slack while he goofs off. Let's just face it pal, the only people who have ever really wanted you were 200 pound convicts who had been away from their women too long."_ He screwed his eyes shut and tried to block it all out, because, as much as he hated to admit it, it was true. Funny enough, the only ones who had genuinely just wanted him, however sick it made him feel, were the only ones he'd never let use him.

"But I didn't let them!" he said with a smile creeping over his face.

_"No you didn't. But you still sense them don't you. You still feel their groping hands trying to get to you, still feel their hungry eyes moving over you, following your every move. You can feel it, making your skin crawl, making you feel dirty and polluted."_

"I don't wanna hear it." he said as he slid to the floor leaning against the wall and hugging his knees to his chest.

_"That's why you can't let Judy near you. That's why you cringe every time your best friend just puts his arm around you."_

"Because they'd be able to feel it too" he said in a whisper.

_"Everyone can. All you have to do is look. Do you know what they see when they look in your eyes? Nothing. They're blank and empty. Like a cold dead __**fish**__"_

"SHUT UP!" he screamed at the top of his lungs as he sprang to his feet.

_"You're the one making all the noise."_ It was then he realised his cries had been met by the neighbours new baby's wails. _"Well done!"_

He hadn't wanted to go back to that cell, not now. But he couldn't block it out, it was always there, asleep or awake, just waiting to grab him by the throat and choke him to death. At least if he was sleeping he could pretend it was all just a terrible dream. That was probably why the time he didn't spend drinking he spent sleeping.

Not being able to stand it any longer he purposefully marched over to the cupboard he knew was full of the only thing that would help him shut it out. If he was drunk he wouldn't be able to think, and if he could stop thinking he might be able to sleep.

He picked up the first thing he laid his hands on, which happened to be an unopened bottle of vodka. He had always wondered what the point in vodka was. It was like foul tasting water. However, not being too fussy at that precise moment he screwed off the cap and drank deeply.

_"You're relying too much on that stuff."_

"So!" he said as began searching the shelf for another bottle while still clutching the half drunk vodka in his hand.

_"The rate you're going, you're going to give yourself alcohol poisoning."_

That was probably true. But what the hell, if he couldn't remember buying them he might as well not remember drinking them. He picked up the nearest bottle and walked into his bedroom while kicking off his shoes. Taking a large gulp of the foul tasting stuff he reached over and switched the lamp on before he and the bottles flopped down on the bed. He had never been scared of the dark before, not even when he was a tiny child. But now whenever he turned out the lights he heard doors slamming and locks turning. He heard harsh voices calling out their taunting threats and the quiet whimpering he had heard late at night when everything had gone quiet. Then he would curl into a ball and feel totally ashamed when he realised that whimpering was him. So now he slept with light on. 25 years old and he was scared of the dark. Just one more thing to forget, he thought as he proceeded to drink himself to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Judy Hoffs let out a weary sigh, the phone screwed tightly to her ear. She had spent the last few hours switching between panic and frustration, they were telling her nothing and she was worried sick.

"I understand that Captain, but it's been four hours...yes I know...he's' sleeping. I finally got him to quit asking for Doug but now he wants Hanson...How bad is he Fuller?...Well, what's he doing?...You really think that's a good idea?...Ok sir, sorry. I'm sure you're doing the best you can...I know, but I've got a very distressed five year old who wants his uncles...Sure...No don't worry about it...Yeah. Just look after him Captain please...I know. Bye sir."

Placing the phone back in its cradle for what seemed like the millionth time that night she walked over to the door that led to the spare bedroom and looked in on the small boy who was fast asleep, his little fingers nearly turning white from gripping the blanket. The poor kid had been through so much already in his short life, it didn't seem right. She bent down and gently stroked his hair before carefully loosening his grip. She had tried her best to explain to him what was happening, but she didn't think he quite understood. She kissed him fondly on the forehead before quietly leaving the room.

She crossed the living room and returned to her vigil at the large window, looking for any sign of the familiar blue mustang coming down the road. She knew it was pointless, after her conversation with Fuller she was convinced it was, but it gave her something to do. Something other than think. Nothing Fuller had said had put her mind at rest. She needed to see him for herself, needed to put her arms around him and let him know it was ok. That whatever he was going through, whatever he had done, she would be there to help him get through it. Although what she could possibly say to him to make any of this any better she had no idea.

She found herself wondering why, after the things that had passed between them, she still cared about him. Well it was simple really. None of it had been him. The man she knew would sit outside your window all night just to make sure you'd be ok, could make everything better with a kind word. Over the years, against her better judgement, this man had managed to become her world.

She thought back to that night at the restaurant before he had suddenly become so angry. She remembered how it was like his eyes flickered and he was suddenly a different person. She knew something was wrong back then. The next morning had just worried her more.

_Four days earlier._

The early morning quiet surrounded the Chapel as the three figures sat at the large table in the centre of the room. Hoffs was desperately trying to finish the paperwork from her last bust, which should have been handed in days ago, but somehow had managed to escape Fullers notice. Ioki was doing his best to try and help but was finding it hard to concentrate and kept looking out the window with a faraway look in his eyes. However, both young officers kept throwing angry glances to their companion who was drumming impatiently with a pen on the wooden surface. Not being able to stand it anymore Harry reached over and snatched the pen roughly from his friend's hand. Doug looked up with questioning eyes, his fingers still holding the pen that was no longer there.

"What?" he asked

"I'm trying to concentrate." Harry snapped in his heavily accented voice.

"Sorry" Doug said sheepishly. After only a few moments however he commenced his drumming, only this time it was his large fingers that were tapping out the monotonous rhythm.

"Doug, please" Hoffs barked

"Don't you have something to do? Like work on a case" Harry said.

"Yes". Doug said through gritted teeth, "But my partner's not here yet is he? Someone kept him out all night." he said looking slyly at Judy who just glared back angrily. "Really detective you should know better. It could be ages before hr drags himself out of bed."

"Well why don't you wait in silence?" Judy suggested. Doug held up his hands in a defensive gesture and began looking impatiently around the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked them, unable to last more than thirty seconds.

"We're working!" they both yelled.

"And if you don't find something to do in the next ten seconds I will find something for you." Judy said "And right now I'm thinking of something that involves you picking up your severed limbs from each corner of this room."

"Get out of the wrong side of bed this morning Jude?" Harry asked smirking.

"Maybe it was the wrong side of someone else's bed." Doug said suggestively, as he grinned at Harry. "It's none of your damn business Penhall!" Judy snapped. The smirk was quickly wiped from his face at the glare from the young woman. Harry exchanged questioning glances with Doug before going back to pretend to be helping with the case report

Not long after, Judy let out a defeated sigh as the morning silence was once again shattered. There was a loud thump as the door slammed shut and unsteady footsteps began thudding up the stairs. These were joined by muffled curses as Hanson came stumbling into the room. He made his way precariously over to his desk and sat down where the chair appeared to be, but somehow ended up on the floor. Almost immediately afterwards the faces of his partners were hovering over him.

"Hey, are you ok?" Harry asked.

"I've never felt better" Tom answered waving his hands around flamboyantly for emphasis. "I do seem to be missing a chair though?" he slurred, a thoughtful expression on his face as he looked around where he was sitting.

"Ok, up you come." Doug said reaching out pulling his partner to his feet and guiding him to the chair. "Please tell me you didn't drive here in this state."

"Of course not" he said offended and rolling his eyes, "I couldn't find my keys. They were hiding in my pocket."

"Hanson, are you drunk?" Judy burst out.

"Of course he is." Doug snapped.

"What are we going to do with him?" Harry asked.

"I'm not drunk. Look I can walk in a straight line" he said springing to his feet and then falling over his desk in a fit of laughter.

"He's wasted" Harry said watching his friend in amazement. "Fullers going to kill him."

"What the hell did you go and do this for?" Doug asked.

"To see if I can."

"Well you obviously can. Happy now?" the large officer snapped.

"Not really." then looking at his partner holding up a finger, "You're mad aren't you?"

"Come on Hanson" Judy said impatiently, "Let's get you sorted before Fuller sees what state you've got yourself into." Why was she cursed to care so much about this man?

"You know Miss Hoffs, you're very beautiful" he slurred as she helped Harry hold him up.

"Yeah, and you stink like paint stripper."

"Hey, I was giving you a complement. Doug, why can't women take compliments?"

"Shut up Hanson." Doug said, a warning edge to his voice.

"No, I want to know. I told her I thought she was beautiful and she insulted me. It was the same with all the others. I once told Amy she looked like she had lost weight and she took that to mean I thought she used to be fat." he said waving his hands around so erratically that he almost hit Harry across the face.

"Hanson" Doug said through gritted teeth.

"And Jackie, she was the worst. Whenever I said, you look nice today Jackie, she thought that meant she didn't usually look nice. Why can't you just say thank you?" he asked pointing a finger at Judy, who in turn threw a questioning glance at Doug.

"He's rambling" Doug said dismissively. "Just say thank you."

"Thank you for the compliment Hanson."

"You're very welcome" he said before slipping out of their grasp and sitting down hard on the chapel's concrete floor his eyes glazed and wondering. The others looked on, their faces a picture of disbelief.

"Don't you have to be at Greenwood?" Harry asked Doug.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

"Just after 8."

"Great, that gives me half an hour to do something with him."

"That's not going to be enough time."

"You don't think I know that."

"You're the McQuaid's. Would it matter?"

"If I took him like this he'd blow our cover." Doug had only really seen Hanson drunk once before in El Salvador. Even then he had been watchful and alert enough to notice that there was something not right about the guy who joined them and to keep quiet. He seemed anything but alert right now and he couldn't be sure he wouldn't give them away. He was already close to telling Judy what he had been trying so long to hide.

"How would we get there? He didn't bring the Mustang and there's no way I can take him on the bike in this state anyway." Doug continued

"Ok" Judy said decisively. "Lots of strong coffee and lots of water. Let's get him up to the locker room out of the way." she finished as she stooped beside Hanson and tried to pull him to his feet again.

"Where are we going?" he asked her.

"We need to get you upstairs"

"What are you suggesting detective?"

"I don't think you're capable right now Hanson."

"Quick before Fuller comes out." Harry urged as he joined to help Hoffs.

"I'm not going upstairs with Fuller. And if I did, I'd need a lot more to drink" came the slur from the slumped figure between them.

"I think you've had enough." Judy scolded. "You're meant to be on a case, or have you forgotten?"

"No, I remember. Come on Doug, we're going to be late." he said breaking Hoffs and Ioki's hold.

"It doesn't matter." Doug said grabbing hold of the smaller man.

"That's right, it doesn't cos we're the McQuaid Brothers!" he shouted raising his hands in the air.

"Right" Doug said. "But this McQuaid isn't going anywhere until he remembers how to stand up by himself." he finished as he hoisted Tom across his shoulder like he was nothing more than a rag doll and headed for the stairs. "Jude, we're going to need that coffee." he called out as he went.

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Not long afterwards Harry and Judy had followed their partners upstairs, Judy carrying a pot full of black coffee and Harry laden with as much bottled water as he could carry from the machine downstairs.

"Here." Judy said as she poured the coffee into a Styrofoam cup and tried to hand it to Tom. "Drink it."

"I'm not drinking that. It tastes like mud." he said batting her hand away.

"You got yourself into this state, you're going to drink the mud!" Doug ordered.

"I didn't mean to, you know. It's just happened."

"Yeah, well you're still drinking the mud." Doug snapped.

"I knew you were mad at me."

"No, I'm not mad." Doug said calmly. "I'm disappointed". Tom winced and rolled his eyes.

"Oh god no, Not that. Can't you just be angry at me?"

"Keep going and we'll see."

"I may just do that." Tom said smiling insolently at his friend.

"What's going on Tom?"

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't you man."

"Maybe it is. Ever think of that?"

"We both know that's ridiculous. I know you, and this isn't it."

"You know me?" he said, a strange tone in his voice. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. I do. Probably better than you know yourself right now."

"Answer me this then Doug. If you know me so well, how can you stand to be near me?"

"What are you talking about? You're my best friend."

"You know none of it was ever my fault don't you Doug?" he said clutching desperately at Penhall's shirt. "I only did what people asked of me. You believe me right?"

"Of course I do." Doug said, his eyes scanning his best friend with worry and confusion.

"Come on Hanson." Judy said softly, "You can't work in this state." Tom met her eyes and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Hey Doug." he slurred as he grabbed his partner by the arms. "You see this girl?" he said gesturing grandly towards Hoffs.

"Judy? Yeah I see her."

"I love this girl Doug." Harry watched as Doug's eyes widened and Judy stifled a gasp.

"Come on Hanson, don't do this, you're wasted." Doug said softly. "You don't know what you're saying" he finished, as Harry caught him chancing a look over at Judy.

"I know exactly what I'm saying" he said getting to his feet and shouting, "I said I love you!" as he looked at Hoffs who just stared back at him, her expression unreadable. "When I look at you it doesn't hurt anymore and I can breathe again."

"Hanson!" Doug pleaded, "Stop." But Tom didn't seem to notice him, his eyes were fixed squarely on Judy.

"Everything's in black and white but you." he continued frantically as Doug struggled to calm him and reassure Judy, although she seemed the calmest of the four of them.

"The only reason I walk in here everyday is to be near you. Do you really think any of this matters?" he said gesturing wildly and oblivious to the shock and hurt on Doug and Harry's faces. "Do you think any of this makes any difference?" he said as he began pulling open lockers and throwing their contents about the room, narrowly avoiding hitting the others as the objects flew over their heads. "It's all useless, meaningless junk." he shouted as he turned and gestured towards the window. "And those people out there aren't worth the dirt they walk on."

"Tom, man, don't do this." Doug said quietly from beside him, but once again was only ignored.

"The only thing in my life that means anything is you, you're the only thing that's still in focus. Only I can't tell you any of this, because everything I love turns to ashes" he said almost laughing.

"Is that the truth?" Judy said calmly and quietly.

"I wouldn't lie to you. Tom Hanson never lies remember" he said bitterly

"Ok. If you're being truthful, answer me this Hanson. Is loving me so awful that you have to be completely trashed before you can tell me? You had plenty of opportunity to come out and say it countless times over the years."

"You don't understand…" he began.

"No I don't understand Hanson. I don't understand why you're doing this to me? You accuse me of using you and then you stagger in here like some wino coming in from a shop doorway and lay all this on me. What possible reason do you have to think I would want to hear all this? Did you think this was some kind of incredible romantic gesture and that I wouldn't be able to resist and I'd just fall into your arms?"

"No."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm poison, Judy. Hasn't anyone told you?"

"I don't think you're poison Hanson. I think you need you need help and whatever your problem is, find someone who can help you. I can't be your sole reason for getting up everyday. I don't think I can handle the responsibility of being your life support." she finished then ran as fast as she could down the stairs.

"Jude!" Doug shouted after her, his troubled gaze switching frantically between his inebriated best friend and the space Judy had just vacated. His decision made he turned to Tom.

"Well done!" he said to his partner before running after Judy.

"I hoped she'd take that better." Tom shrugged.

"How did you think she would have taken it? Or did you not think? Was that the problem?"

"I've screwed up again haven't I?" he said sadly as he looked at Harry.

"She'll be ok" he said apologetically noticing the distress on his friends face.

"No, I've done nothing but mess her around. I'm an awful person Harry."

"No you're not."

"I am. They all say so."

"Who?"

"Them" he said waving at nothing. "Can't you hear them?"

"Hear who?" Harry asked looking round the room.

"I do. They won't leave me alone. They're always nagging and accusing and reminding me of things I really just wanna forget. They're here now. Can't you hear them?"

"Hanson, there's no one there." He told him gently as alarm bells sounded loudly in his head and he sat down beside his friend, who shifted over slightly as Harry's arm brushed him.

"You can't see them Harry" Tom said as if Harry was stupid.

"Are they invisible?" he asked trying to sound calm while his mind was reeling and his guts were twisting in knots. Was Hanson really saying all this? Hanson hearing voices? Was the strongest and most put together person he knew loosing his mind?

"No. They're in here" he said tapping a finger to his head and looking thoughtfully into the distance. "They won't stop."

"Why don't you let me get Doug and we can try and help?" Harry said frantically as he began to get to his feet.

"No. You can't. They'll think I'm crazy. You know what they do to crazy people Harry? They lock them up and throw away the key. They'll put me away again Harry. You can't let them do that to me again."

"Hanson, no ones going to lock you up"

"You can't tell them Harry. Promise me you won't tell them." Tom said, his eyes staring pleading into Harry's.

"Tom, you must realise this isn't normal." Harry said desperately.

"You can't!" Hanson snapped. "You owe me Harry. This is your fault you know."

"What?" Harry yelped in disbelief.

"I would never have been in Towers house that night if you hadn't been stupid enough to get yourself shot" he said viciously.

"You don't really believe that" Harry replied, trying his best to stay calm and telling himself over and over that Tom didn't know what he was saying.

"Don't I?" he said lightly. "Whether I do or not doesn't matter. Bottom line is Harry, I went looking to get the guy who hurt you. You owe me. Promise me Harry" he finished looking directly into Ioki's dark eyes.

"Hanson, there could be something seriously wrong here."

"You think I'm crazy don't you?"

"No!"

"Yes you do, or you wouldn't be looking at me that way."

"I don't think you're crazy."

"Then prove it. Promise me you won't say anything. Please Harry." he pleaded as he turned dull eyes on his friend, his voice sounding so lost and defeated that Harry would have done anything to make it not so. His eyes met Tom's and he let out a deep sigh, knowing he was about to make a huge mistake.

"Ok. I promise."

So now Harry Ioki paced the sterile white hallways, waiting for someone to tell him what was going on. It had been hours. Thinking back now he knew he should have told someone. You don't listen to your friend rambling about voices in his head and then just forget about it. You look after him and make sure he gets help. But no, he had promised, and Harry always had to keep his promises. Too many years pretending to be Japanese had left him with this annoying sense of honour. This time it had probably done more harm than good. Sighing heavily he collapsed into one of the many hard plastic seats that lined the white walls, a tremendous feeling of guilt, frustration and anger whirling round inside him. He should have broken his promise. What kind of friend was he, to know something like that and just let it go? Hanson had been in no fit state to be on this case. He hadn't always been the poster boy for mental health as it was. God knows what this would do to him now. He knew it wasn't all his fault, as Fuller had told him, he wasn't the only person in Hanson's life, the others should have seen it too. He knew for a fact that Judy did. Still, he had been the one Tom had confided in, he should have tried harder he thought as he rested his head against the wall and tried to let everything drift away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to Library Tech and Ghostwriter for sticking with me. It's always good to here from you.**

"So how's the head?" Doug had asked him later that day as they made their way through the school hallway towards the cafeteria.

"It's been better." Tom replied sullenly. He knew he'd disappointed them yet again, but to be honest, he really couldn't care less. Not anymore.

_"Who are you trying to convince? You live for their approval and you know it"_

"Don't you ever shut up!" he snapped and was stunned to see Penhall across from him looking extremely hurt.

"I was just asking man?"

"Sorry." Tom said feeling ashamed. "I'm still feeling a little fragile."

"Who's fault is that?"

"It's my fault Doug, ok."

"Why did you do it?"

_"Why don't you tell him? He wants to help you."_

"Things didn't go too well with Judy last night."

"What happened?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"No. Just said talk to Tom if he ever surfaced again."

"Meaning?" he asked dully.

"She's worried about you. We all are."

"There's no need, really."

"_No need at all. You're just the regular common garden head case."_

"Tom, what happened to get you in that state?"

_"Go on tell him. You messed up. You behaved like a psycho because you can't stand being who you really are."_

"I blew it." he said simply. The tone in voice telling Doug it was futile to push any further at that particular moment.

_"You coward!"_

As they entered the cafeteria they spotted Casey Moore having a rather uncomfortable conversation with Chris Tyler. He was looking desperately from his tormentor to the 'McQuaids', his eyes begging them for help. Tom however, was seemingly oblivious, more interested in his feet than anything around him.

"We're on!" said Doug cheerfully pulling at Tom's sleeve.

"_Run along little Tommy. There's a good boy."_

"Haven't we got more important things to be doing?" Tom sighed, his hands raking through his long straggly hair in that familiar unconscious gesture.

"Like what?" Doug asked, a harassed and impatient expression twisting his features.

"Well, I am kinda hungry."

"What's wrong with you? We're meant to be looking out for this kid now. Come on, we're the McQuaid Brothers ha!"

"That's right, we are" Tom said with a small grin playing on his lips as he followed after his partner. Being Tommy McQuaid was a damn sight easier than trying to be Tom Hanson.

"_What about the other Tommy you've got hiding in there?"_

"Fuck him!" he said quietly as he made his way through the noisy crowd.

"I haven't forgotten you know Casey." Tyler was sneering. "You still owe me, and your bodyguards can't be around to protect you every second of the day."

"Maybe not every second." Doug began as he approached the boy from behind, "But we're here now." Tyler sighed, rolled his eyes and turned around to face them.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" he asked, clearly agitated.

"He doesn't, but I do." Tom said wearily.

"Then why don't you run along and do it"

"I said I had better things to do, but this is more fun" he grinned, suddenly feeling like a ten tonne weight lifted from his shoulders. It was good to leave Tom Hanson behind.

"We thought you'd got the message before, that we wanted to you to leave young Casey here alone." Doug said shaking his head in disappointment as he put his arm around the teen's shoulders.

"I think we weren't being clear enough." Tom added.

"So, what do you think will get the message through?" the larger man asked turning to his brother who appeared to be deep in thought.

"There is a rather useful flagpole outside on the field" he said brightly.

"Tommy, you're an absolute genius." Doug said grinning. 'Tommy' shrugged.

"What can I say? It's a cross I have to bear."

"Well now Tyler" Doug began, a twisted smile on his face. "You know the drill. Hand over the pants."

Tyler looked over wide eyed at the scruffy pair in a state of panic when suddenly a yell from the other side of the cafeteria, scraping of chairs and numerous screams drew their attention.

"You go near my sister again and I swear I'll put one of these through your skull!" a voice roared, seething with anger.

Hanson and Penhall swung round to see two of the senior class kids glaring furiously at each other across the table, one of them had pulled a rather large gun from his rucksack.

"Your sisters got a mind of her own, man. She can't get enough." the other said with a smirk. With a tremendous growl the one holding the gun jumped over the table grabbing the other boy and shoving the gun under his chin.

"How the hell did he get that in here?" Doug said turning to his partner with eyes the size of dinner plates.

"Let's go ask him." Tom replied wearily releasing his grip on Tyler's collar and following Doug to the back of the cafeteria.

"Hey, man, why don't you put the gun down?" Doug said calmly as they approached the obviously distraught boy.

"No way! This guy got my 15 year old kid sister pregnant." he said tightening his grip on the other teenager, who was now looking scared and much too pale.

"You really think this will help?" Tom said quietly.

"It'll make me feel a whole lot better." he snapped.

"Trust me, the second you pull that trigger, your life is over man!"

"What would you know about it?" the boy sneered.

"Come on, man, you've heard the stories." Tom smirked.

"You're the McQuaid's." the kid said distantly.

"Yeah."

"You're the one who went to jail."

"That's right. So trust me, I know what I'm talking about. And I don't think killing the father of her baby is going to help your sister do you?"

"He's not going to stand by her."

"Then she's going to need her brother isn't she. How can you help her from behind bars man?"

"I have to do something. I can't let him get away with it."

"Then don't. Just find another way." The boy looked at Tom uncertainly and relaxed his grip slightly, still not enough for the other boy to wriggle free.

"What's it to you anyway?" the boy sneered, however, he was unable to hide his fear. "He a friend of yours or something?"

"I've never met him in my life. I just want to stop you from making a huge mistake."

"_What for? There was no one there to stop you. Just let him get on with it. He's not your problem."_

"Good Samaritan are you?"

"If that's how you want to look at it, sure." he said moving slowly closer to the boy. "Just put it down, man." He just stared and watched as Hanson slowly pried the gun from his hand and passed it to his 'brother' who quickly placed it under his jacket. No point in another life being ruined because of these things. The boy let go of his target and slumped to the floor, breathing heavily, but not quite sobbing.

"Come on!" Doug said as he reached out his hand and pulled the boy to his feet. The two young officers carefully led him outside, allowing him time to calm down. As the kid realised they were leading him towards an old blue mustang in the parking lot he turned confused and panicked eyes on them.

"What's going on?" asked.

"You're coming with us" Tom replied.

"I'm not going anywhere!" he yelled.

"Yes you are." Doug said bringing out his badge. "We're cops kid."

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Before long Tom and Doug were stood in the cell back at the chapel, the frightened but defiant teen glaring across the small space towards them.

"How did you get past the door?" Doug asked impatiently staring down at the young boy.

"I'm a magician."

"Ok, how about you tell us why the hell you think you need any kind of gun at school? Especially one like this."

"It's a rough school." he said with a shrug.

"No school is that rough."

"You an expert or something?"

"Come on Nathan, who gave you the gun?" Doug asked calmly.

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Look, you're looking at brandishing a deadly weapon with intent to harm, possibly fatally. If you co operate, we can try and get the charges against you dropped." Tom said from where he stood in the corner with his arms folded tightly across his chest. He didn't want to be in here, it felt like the bars we're closing in on him. In fact if he listened carefully he swore he could hear them scraping against the floor as his eyes darted about making sure they were all still in the right place, while cruel taunting voices echoed their threats in his ears.

_"You know they're not moving don't you. And there's only you three here. It's all in your head. It must be getting quite crowded in there."_

"Why should I trust you? You're cops who pretend to be high school students. You lie for a living." came the teen's voice, regaining his attention.

"That's right we do. But what would we gain from going back on our word. If we didn't hold up our end you could retract your statement at anytime, then we'd have nothing."

"Is that right?" Nathan said turning pleading eyes on Doug.

"That's right. You hold all the cards here Nathan."

"So I don't have to tell you anything" he said resolutely.

"No you don't" Tom said, "But whether you tell us or not you're still going to be charged. Helping us will just make it a little easier on you."

"I can't help you." he replied, his voice beginning to tremble.

"You mean you won't" Doug said frustrated.

"No, I can't. If he finds out I went to the cops I'm as good as dead."

"What are you talking about?"

"If whoever this guy is is watching you as closely as you say then the chances are he already knows we brought you in." Tom informed him quietly.

"So?"

"Who is he then?"

"I've told you I can't tell you!" he wailed.

"If you tell us we can protect you. Whoever this guy is will go away for a long time. He won't be able to touch you." came Doug's calm voice.

"You can't guarantee that. It's not just me. What about my family?"

"They won't be in any danger."

"You'll all be safer if you help us to put this guy away." Tom said, his voice sounding tired and deflated.

"I told you, I can't."

"You stupid son of a bitch" Tom spat as he launched out of his corner and slammed the boy against the bars as Doug looked on wide eyed at his partners anger. "If you don't help us, you're going to jail, do you understand. Have you any idea what that's like?"

"It's better than being dead." Nathan said, now very obviously frightened.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." he said in little more than a whisper.

"I'll take my chances".

"What about the other idiot kids who are buying these things huh? What are you going to do if one of them kills someone knowing you could have stopped it? What if one of them is your sister? You think you could live with that?" he shouted, his face inches away from the frightened teen.

"_Can you?"_

Tom screwed his eyes up, shaking his head trying to be rid of that nagging itch.

"Hanson, man, back off" Doug's calm voice came from behind him.

"Don't you get it? We risk our so called lives everyday, good people suffer, or are injured, and killed because of people like him."

"It's ok Tom." Doug said as he approached his partner and placed his hand on his shoulder. Shying away from this contact Tom remained focused on the kid before him.

"They're not worth it Doug. Can't you see that?" he replied not taking his eyes from Nathan's. "Not one of them!" he finished in disgust as he let the boy drop to the floor.

"_So why do you do it?"_

"Cos it's my job" he whispered.

"_I don't remember seeing murder and manipulation in the job description"_

"Let me out of here" he yelled as he slammed his hand against the cell door.

"_You should still be behind these and you know it!"_

Harry heard his calls, and startled, jumped up from his seat and rushed over to open the cell.

"You ok?" he asked as Tom walked passed him.

"Fine. Someone charge him and get him out of my sight." he replied as he marched over to his desk and sat down heavily, his head resting in his hands as his fingers turned white from gripping his hair.

"_You're the wrong person to be giving him advice don't you think? How many deaths have you got on your conscience? How many could you have saved?"_

"They weren't my fault." he whispered through ragged breaths.

"Hey." Tom's head shot up and he gazed out of glass like eyes at the man before him, not really noticing his partner shudder slightly as their eyes met.

"Yes?" Tom said distantly, he didn't want to have to deal with any of this right now, he wanted to crawl into the deepest hole he could find and bury himself so the world couldn't find him.

"Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just a hunch, that little episode back there, that kid and the guns the other day. Your outburst this morning. Did you really mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"Judy. That you love her, and nothing else matters?"

"I was drunk."

"So you didn't mean it?"

"I don't know." he replied his eyes staring straight through his best friend.

"Tom, you know I can see right through you. What's going on?"

"Leave it Doug."

"What if I can't leave it?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"_Go on then. Spill it. See what he thinks of you then. Tommy never had these issues you know. You remember him don't you? Or have they totally beaten him out of you?"_

"I'm sick of being forced to protect kids like that waste of space."

"It's our job. No one ever said we'd get any thanks for it."

"No one ever told us we'd be the ones paying for what they've done either."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's all happening again Doug, can't you see it?"

"What?"

"The guns, kids too scared to talk, all this cloak and dagger stuff. It's just like before."

"_Not quite like before. No ones died. Yet."_

"Hey!" Doug's voice was deadly serious. "This is nothing like before. No one's gonna get hurt this time."

"What would it matter?" he said, feeling extremely tired as Doug looked back at him with that expression he had come to know and loathe.

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Harry Ioki sat uncomfortably on the hard plastic bench, trying his best to keep his heavy eyes from closing. He should have been at home right now. Granted, all that waited for him was his TV and his microwave, at least it was warm, comfortable and familiar. But he had promised he would stay here for as long as it took. It had been the only way they had got Hanson to agree to go back with Fuller. The state he had been in, he probably needed a break more than Harry did. Sure he was playing it cool, brushing it all off, but Harry guessed that was just shock. When it finally did hit him it would be better if he wasn't in such a public place. He picked up the nearest magazine and started to leaf through it in a vain attempt to stop himself thinking. Still his mind wouldn't let him rest, ticking over at a hundred miles a minute. That had been his case, Penhall and Hanson shouldn't really have been anywhere near it. But however guilty he felt he couldn't help feeling slightly relieved. Any of those shots could have hit him, and they might have finished the job this time. The relief was still nothing compared to the sickness he felt when he thought about little Clavo. He wandered how Judy was coping with the poor kid. He had looked so scared, no matter how many times they had tried to reassure him. This led him to wondering how Fuller was dealing with Hanson. That was a job he didn't envy. He had been unpredictable at the best of times recently.

His thoughts drifted back to the last time he had talked to Tom alone before all this had gone down. He had suspected for a while now that something hadn't been quite right, but he had had his own not so minor issues to deal with. Near death isn't a fun experience no matter what he had heard people say. Besides it had always been Doug's job to look out for Tom. He couldn't help wonder, however, if sometimes Doug was too close to his partner to be able to see what had been going on.

It had been the afternoon after Hanson had rolled in drunk out of his skull. Something in itself that had quite shocked him, and Tom's garbled words about the people he couldn't see that wouldn't leave him alone had chilled him to the bone.

That afternoon he had watched as Hanson and Penhall questioned a kid he vaguely recognised from Greenwood. He had witnessed the resulting outburst and spent quite sometime debating with himself as to whether he should talk to his troubled friend, before finally making his way over.

Tom had been sat at his desk scribbling absently on a piece of paper, not really looking what he was doing, just seeming to stare trough the walls, every so often his lips moved soundlessly as he gazed off into the distance. Harry had recognised that far away look as the same one he had pulled himself away from on a number of occasions. He supposed, when he thought about it, that they had both shared a similar experience. In some way they had both nearly died.

"It's not the same is it?" he said bringing those wide dark glasslike eyes round to look at him, oblivious to the fact that Tom didn't want to be anywhere near him, that somewhere deep down, on some level, Tom was blaming him for everything.

"Sorry?"

"All this." he said, waving his hand in no particular direction, "It's not the same anymore is it?"

"No I don't suppose it is." Tom answered quietly.

"Everything seems kind of trivial after all that's happened doesn't it?"

"And what exactly happened Harry?"

"With Crane and everything."

"You mean you nearly dying and me being locked up?" Hanson said lightly. He looked up and smiled sadly at the uncomfortable and slightly hurt look on Harry's face. "You can say it Harry. Not talking about it won't change that fact that it happened. I'm reminded of it everyday. I know you are too."

"We never talked about it."

"_The sight of you reminds him of I, doesn't it Tommy? It was his fault you know. He shouldn't have got himself shot."_

"Harry every time you squirm when you see a gun or hear one go off, I'm reminded of it. Every time you guys tiptoe around the subject I'm reminded of it. Are you scared I'm going to breakdown in tears or fly into some uncontrolable rage? Well don't be, I won't. I don't have the energy anymore."

"We're not worried about that."

"Maybe you should be." he shrugged, "I might be lying." Harry noticed Tom's eyes scanning the room for something he couldn't see.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively.

"It wouldn't change anything if I did would it?"

"Tom..." Harry stopped as Tom began to chuckle to himself. "What?" he asked

"Everyone suddenly calling me Tom."

"It's your name isn't it?"

"Yeah I suppose it is. But you say it in the voice people usually use on people who are dying. Are you trying to tell me something?" he asked with mock suspicion.

"No" Harry replied, stuck somewhere between amusement and frustration at the ease with which Hanson was changing the course of the conversation.

"Well, that's good I guess."

"Will you talk to me?" Harry pleaded.

"Fine." Tom said dropping the pen he had been continuously scribbling with all this time. "I'm never going to forget what happened Harry, I have to live with that everyday whether I want to or not. So yes Harry, things are different. But you can't change the past, things aren't ever going to be the same. It's just something you've got to accept and move on."

"Are you going to move on?"

"What do you mean? Quit?"

"Haven't you thought about it? I have."

"And what would I do Iokage?"

"Anything you want."

"It's that simple is it?" Tom said as, Harry noticed, his eyes flicked towards the corner of the room where Doug was hovering.

"Yeah."

"So why haven't you done it?"

"Probably the same reasons you haven't. I worked so hard to get here, to stay here. It's all I ever dreamed of."

"The dream seems kind of empty now huh?"

"Does yours?" Harry asked looking straight into Tom's seemingly vacant eyes.

"I don't know. How do you do it Harry?"

"Do what?"

"Get up and carry on like it's all ok?"

"I'm not the one who does that Hanson." he said meaningfully. "Have you heard those voices again?" he asked voicing the worries that had been nagging at him most of the day.

"What voices?" Hanson replied distantly fixing Harry with vacant dull eyes.

"The ones you told me you were hearing." Harry said in a desperate whisper.

"Harry, what are you talking about?" Tom replied, affecting an air of total innocence.

"You know what I'm talking about Hanson. Come on man, this is serious."

"I'm sure it is."

"Tom, you don't have to pretend all the time. I know it's your job but you're allowed a break. You don't always have to be perfect or responsible you know. You can ask for help, it's not a weakness and you're not alone. No one will think any less of you for bring human. That's all you are Hanson, human. You're allowed to be happy and it's ok to be a little selfish sometimes."

"HANSON! PENHALL!" Fuller's dulcet tones echoed across the room.

"Coming coach"

"Aye aye Sir!" Doug called from where he had been watching Tom and Harry talking. The two young officers jumped to their feet. As he started to head towards Fullers office Harry stopped Tom as he went past.

"I have to go." Tom said dully.

"No you don't. Fuller can wait."

"Are we talking about the same Adam Fuller? Lot's of shouting, spit flying, eyes bulging, head about to explode?" he said flashing a smile.

"Dammit Hanson, I'm serious. I can't just let this go. I'm scared for you."

"You don't have to be, Harry. Unless you've got a guilty conscience."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind."

"Hanson, you're my friend, it's my job to look out for you." Harry said softly. "You know where to find me." he finished meaningfully

"Thanks!" Hanson replied distantly. As Tom walked away Harry looked down and saw the paper he had been writing on. On it he had written over and over again _**'it's not my fault' **_and the same recurring number, _**77988**_, screaming out at him covering most of the paper. In some places he had pressed so hard the pen had almost gone straight through. Hearing footsteps behind him he grabbed the paper and stuffed it in his pocket.

"What was all that about?" Penhall asked as they watched Tom vanish into Fullers office.

"Keep an eye on him Doug." Harry said simply before taking his seat at his desk.

Harry now knew that he had thought right. Doug had always been so protective of Tom that if anyone even mentioned that he might not be coping he would stubbornly and almost violently refuse to entertain the idea. Thinking back he knew he should have shown that bit of paper to Doug or told the others about Tom's voices, maybe then Doug might have listened. Now they had both paid for that mistake.

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Back at the Chapel, Fullers phone was ringing once again. Hanson's head shot up from where it had been resting on the desk. Who the hell was calling here at this time? He could only make out a few words, something about not being in a fit state and suffering from shock. He pitied the poor bastard they were talking about. Fuller's voice then took on a more agitated tone and from what he heard in his muffled voice he guessed it wasn't good news. Maybe they had decided to investigate him after all. Not surprisingly this thought held no terror at all. Actually, he would welcome it. That way when they kicked him out the choice would be out of his hands. Maybe if he'd had the guts to cut his losses sooner things wouldn't have got so far. In fact thinking about life outside the police force gave him a feeling of relief. He wouldn't really miss it. The only thing about the force that really mattered to him now were his partners. Now he couldn't even think of facing them, and he hadn't given a damn about the job in a long time, there was really nothing left. When he thought about it he hadn't even tried that hard to hide it.

"Sit down guys." Fuller said as Doug and Hanson stepped through the door.

"What's going on coach?"

"We've finally got a trace on those guns."

"Did it lead back to anyone?" Doug asked.

"Unfortunately not."

"Because that would be too easy." Tom sighed as his head fell back to rest on the back of Fullers couch.

_"Always the easy way out with you isn't it?"_

"What did you say?" Tom said, fear making his voice waver slightly as he stared at his commanding officer.

"I said," Fuller began looking strangely back at him. That look again. Why do they keep looking at him like that? "The serial numbers match up with a load of seized weapons scheduled for destruction that were being held in a storage facility downtown. Everything alright Hanson?"

"Fine."

"So someone broke in?" Doug said as his eyes flicked between the other two men.

"Yeah. About five weeks ago."

"That would match up with these guns turning up at Greenwood then." Tom said.

"Yeah."

"Wouldn't whoever broke in need to know where they were being stored."

"It would seem so Tom. They must have known when they were due to be destroyed and had access to the facility, which means..."

"Inside job" Hanson said dully.

_"Wake up will you. What else did you expect?"_

"Looks that way Hanson."

"Was anyone on duty when it happened?" Doug asked.

"Yeah, but the officer on the desk claims he didn't see anyone".

"That's convenient" Hanson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It wasn't him Hanson. His fingerprints weren't found anywhere at the scene."

_"Neither was your gun!"_

"So we're still no closer to getting this guy." Doug said frustrated.

"Well, we know for sure that whoever is bringing them into the school isn't working alone. How are you two getting on?"

"Not much to go on." Hanson replied.

"What about Sawyer?"

"I don't think it's him coach. He's a bully, likes to be the big man and shoot his mouth off but he won't have access to this kind of hardware."

"What about him out there" Fuller asked.

"Nothing. He wouldn't tell us where he got it from, claims his life is in danger if he does. He seems really scared captain."

_"Couldn't have had anything to do you with what you did could it?"_

"I didn't….." Hanson said a little too loudly.

"You didn't do your best?" Fuller said, his brows raised.

"No" Tom said uncertainly. "I should have pushed harder."

_"Good save!"_

"It's ok. We can work it from both ends. You guys keep working the school while downtown investigates the break in. If they find the supplier we'll find his connection at Greenwood."

"Can we run school records, see if any of the kids have relations in the department?" Doug suggested.

"Too obvious Penhall. I don't think anyone would be that stupid."

"You never know captain" Hanson interrupted. "He might have something."

"We'll see. Keep at it guys"


	9. Chapter 9

_Three days earlier_

A tall youth stood at the high steps to the school entrance, his blonde hair stuck up in spikes at different angles and his bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement. The source of this amusement was coming from the skinny struggling youth he was suspending from the railings by his feet. The small boy's arms were dangling above his head and his face was turning a worrying shade of purple as he begged desperately for the larger boy to let him go.

"Come on Tyler, let me up. How much do you want, I'll give it to you I swear." Casey Moore begged his tormentor.

"A minute ago you told me you didn't have any money. We're you lying Casey?" he asked in mock surprise. "I think liars should be punished." he said maliciously with a glint in his eyes. This quickly disappeared when he heard the recently familiar call from behind him.

"HELLO!" Tyler winced and slowly turned round and found himself face to face with Doug and Tommy McQuaid. At first he hadn't been afraid of the degenerate siblings. Sure, Doug was undoubtedly huge and he wouldn't want to get into a fight with him but he was clearly at the back of the queue when they were handing out the brains or else he wouldn't still be in high school. After hearing the stories about his younger brother Tommy he couldn't help laughing when he first clapped eyes on him. He was about as threatening as a hamster. Nearly half the size of his 'brother' with bambi eyes and a baby face that reminded him of his kid brother, it was hard to believe that this guy could have been capable of any of the things they said he'd done. But over the past few days they had taken it upon themselves to make his life a living hell.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"I though we told you that you were to leave our new friend alone." Doug said pleasantly. Casey looked on hopefully from his position over the railings.

"I don't think he was listening" Tommy's sing song voice came from beside his brother.

"Shall we make him listen?" Doug asked as he pulled Casey back from the railing and set him on his feet.

"Most definitely" the smaller McQuaid replied with a twisted grin. Tyler began to back away foreseeing yet more humiliating punishment. But, however humiliated he had been, the McQuaid's antics had been harmless, which is why he was so surprised when Tommy McQuaid approached him while drawing a flick knife from the pocket of his ratty jeans, glancing over at his other tormentor, Tyler could see that he was equally shocked, if not more so.

"What are you doing?" he asked, the colour draining from his face.

"Making you listen." Tommy replied with a sickly sweet smile. "I usually find that sharp objects make wonderful listening aids"

"You're all talk. You wouldn't use that on me" Tyler said, his voice shaking.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure. They didn't think I'd ever use a gun on anyone either" he said with a strange twisted smile on his face that made the struggling teen and the older 'McQuaid" very nervous. "Now are you going to pay close attention, or do you want to get better acquainted with my pointy friend here?"

"Ok, I'm listening" Tyler said, his voice cracking as he shivered under the stony gaze of the shorter but strangely frightening man before him.

"Good. Now, it's not very nice to attack someone who isn't capable of defending himself is it?" Tyler shook his head vigorously. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you." said his tormentor.

"I'd answer him if were you. You see when my brother gets upset I have difficulty keeping him under control" the older McQuaid advised, trying to appear unconcerned while making a shooting gesture with his hands.

"No it's not nice." Tyler gulped.

"That's better" Tommy said as he continued to wave the knife precariously close the teens face. "Now, I'd like you to appologise to the boy ok?"

"Ok."

"I'm waiting! And it had better sound like you mean it."

"I'm sorry Casey." Tyler wailed as the blade grazed his skin.

"Well done." Tom said smiling brightly. "Off you go Casey." he gestured to the young boy who, not needing to be told twice, quickly made his exit. "Now" Tommy continued, turning his attention back to the squirming Tyler. "If I ever hear that you have been hassling that boy again I'll come looking for you, and next time my self control may not stretch so far. Ok"

"Yeah" he replied with a nervous smile.

"Good boy!" Tommy smiled and patted his shoulder. He then removed the gum he had been chewing from his mouth and relocated it dead centre on Tyler's forehead. "Off you go" he said with a dismissive gesture as he flicked the blade shut and placed it back in his pocket while Doug watched him nervously.

As Tyler faded into the distance, Penhall and Hanson turned to leave themselves, heading for the parking lot. They got half way down the stairs when a voice called back up to them.

"Hey McQuaid!"

"Yeah" they said in unison as they turned to see Casey Moore looking up at them.

"Are the stories true? You did time for manslaughter?"

"That's right" the younger brother answered, his face darkening.

"What happened?"

"I shot him."

"Really." he said thoughtfully. "Maybe I can get you something with a bit more range than a knife." he said suggestively.

"Like what?" Tommy asked, eyebrows raised.

"Meet me tomorrow before class, around 8. We'll have a little talk."

"Sure we'll be there" Doug called after him before exchanging a brief glance with his "brother".

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"Can I ask you what the hell you think you were doing?" Doug asked shortly after as he and Hanson were leaving the school parking lot.

"What?"

"Pulling a knife on the kid? Where did you even get that?"

"Calm down Doug. We're playing a part remember."

"You never had a knife before."

"Would you relax? It worked didn't it, just like you said."

"I didn't say for you to start waving knives around. Threatened the wrong guy anyway didn't you."

"Doesn't matter, we've still got this thing sealed."

"You really think he's behind the gun running?" Doug said trying not to laugh.

"He offered to set us up with guns didn't he?"

"Did he actually say he was going to get us guns?"

"No. But it's a bit of coincidence don't you think?"

"Come on Hanson, this kid doesn't really seem the type to have the connections to get hold of this kind of fire power."

"Where do you think all his money comes from then?"

"Maybe he's got rich parents." Doug said, not sounding totally convinced with his own theory.

"You're right Doug, that's just what it is."

"It's more plausible than Waldo back there setting up in the arms dealing business. I don't think that someone like Casey Moore could make someone like Nathan Marley fear for his life, do you?"

"Ok, maybe he's been leaned on to do it. If he is, we'll meet with him tomorrow, he tells us who he gets them from and the courts go easy on him for cooperating." Tom said, sounding bored with the whole situation.

"That simple is it."

"Isn't it always?" Tom said sarcastically. For a while the journey passed in an uncomfortable silence that hung around the young officers as it was an actual presence in the car with them. Doug watched his partner out of the corner of his eyes, thinking over not only the last few days, but everything that had seemed off with Tom for quite a while now. He'd seemed distant and detached since he first came back to the chapel, and his usual bright smile was rarely seen these days. In fact to Doug, it seemed like part of his friend was missing. Hanson remained oblivious to his partner's scrutiny as he stared intently at the road ahead. This uncomfortable silence went on for some time until Tom finally broke it.

"Hey Doug, have you ever run a red light?" he asked, as a sudden impulse pricked his mind.

"Yeah, a few times. But who doesn't?"

"Me!" Tom said distantly

"Well you're different."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that you don't do things like that. You're one of the good guys, unlike your partner who is totally corrupt and shameless." Doug said, noticing the warning signs in Hanson's demeanour and trying to raise a smile and defuse the situation.

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think." Tom said, a strange look in his eyes as he pressed the accelerator to the floor. Doug began to feel nervous as he saw the lights ahead begin their sequence and the Mustang continued on at increasing speed.

"Tom." he said nervously, "The lights are changing."

"I can see that Doug, thank you."

"Well usually when lights turn red you at least slow down." he replied his unease increasing.

"Don't get boring on me Penhall, I just want to see how it feels."

The car continued hurtling towards the lights as they began to change from amber to red, and when Hanson showed no signs of slowing down Doug began to panic.

"Ok man, you've proved your point. You can stop now."

"I'm not trying to prove a point. Come on Doug, have some fun, live a little."

"That's why I want you to stop" Doug yelled. Tom turned to face him, an ear to ear grin spread across his face.

"Are you scared Doug?" he asked.

"Yes I am. Keep your eyes on the damn road."

"Look, no hands." Tom said waving and grinning at his partner as the car began to swerve towards the centre of the road and his foot pressed down harder on the accelerator. The tyres screeched and kicked up dust from the road behind the car as it headed faster and faster towards the crossroads and the oncoming traffic, as Doug desperately tried to break through to the man who seemed intent on causing them some serious damage.

"What the hell are you doing?" Doug cried out in disbelief, his eyes wide and frightened. He reached for the wheel to try and right the car again but Hanson forced his hands away and he found himself sat with his arms pinned in an uncomfortable and impossible position with his partner looking at him as if he was wondering what he was doing there. He tried to struggle free but, despite Tom being significantly smaller than Doug, he was surprisingly strong. As he struggled he caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye and he turned to focus on the blur of colour heading towards them. Noticing the shock on Doug's face Hanson turned his attention back to the road in time to see the large haulage truck they were heading towards at an alarming speed. He expected to at least be a little afraid but the only thing that crossed his mind was how pissed his dad was going to be at him for totalling the Mustang. He hadn't even asked if it was ok to borrow it. He didn't even have a licence.

"_What can he do? He's dead remember. Besides you've had your licence for years, nearly as long as dad's been dead. The car's yours now."_

"Hanson for Christ's sake move out of the way" Doug almost screamed in abject panic bringing Hanson out of his thoughts. When he saw the look of horror on his partners face his insides twisted in knots and he quickly grabbed the wheel. He could see the driver in the other vehicle, his eyes wide and scared, screaming words he couldn't hear, the sound of the trucks horn reaching his ears as if from hundreds of miles away. As if in a dream he spun the car round in a mist of dust and screeching tyres missing the oncoming truck by mere inches. He brought the car to a grinding halt and turned to look back at the truck as it drove away. When he turned to face Doug he was met by a mixed expression of fury and confusion.

"Are you insane? What the hell do you think you were doing?" Doug screamed at him, his eyes blazing.

"You're angry with me." he said dismissively pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"No I am not angry with you." Doug said through gritted teeth. "Why would I be?"

"Well, I just nearly..."

"Killed us both? I know."

"And you're not angry?"

"No" Doug said as he stepped out of the car. "If you want to kill yourself, man, fine. Go for it. Just make sure next time there's only you in the car."

_"Well done. You nearly made a kid an orphan."_ He suddenly felt sick as Clavo's face flashed in front of him.

"I could say I'm sorry." he began "But I wouldn't really mean it, and I'd probably just do it again." he said viciously.

"You're unbelievable" Doug said angrily as he turned away.

"Doug, where are you going?" he asked, sighing softly as he noticed his partner walking away from the car.

_"Getting as far away from you as possible. You're poison, you know that, now he does too."_

"I'm walking back."

"All the way back to the Chapel" he said climbing out and following after him. "Don't be ridiculous." he finished grabbing for Doug's arm. Penhall spun round and ripped his arm free of Hanson's grasp glaring at him, unable to decide whether he was angry with him, scared for him or whether he just wanted to punch him out there and then..

"I'm being ridiculous?" he said in disbelief. "You nearly ran us under a truck. What the hell is wrong with you man?"

"Like you don't get off on risk. I told you before that's what being a police officer's all about."

"Yeah, you're right. We put our lives at risk all the time. That's why we have partners, to look out for us, lessen that risk and cover our backs, not to put us in greater danger." Doug yelled.

"Hey, you were the one who wanted to play McQuaid's _partner_."

"You're not Tommy McQuaid!" Doug seethed.

"Who am I supposed to be then Doug? Tell me."

"That's a very good question." he said softly looking Hanson up and down. "I don't know what the hell is going on with you, but sort it out." he shot back as he marched away leaving Hanson alone staring after him.

_"That must have hurt."_

"What must have hurt?"

_"Falling off a pedestal that high."_

He hadn't asked to be put on that pedestal. He'd done the best he could. It wasn't enough that he'd travelled all the way to El Salvador with him. Seen the horrors that had lived in his mind ever since. It wasn't enough that he'd been there for him while he grieved for Marta and tried to help him with Clavo. He had to be perfect too. Well to hell with him, he thought to himself as he headed back to the car.

"_You've got a point. You never told them you were perfect. If you fall short of their expectations that's their fault right?"_

"Right."

"_It was hardly your fault that a bunch of kids cuffed you to a roller coaster track was it?"_

"No."

"_And you weren't the one who wouldn't pull your car over when Quincy and her pals decided to play in moving traffic were you."_

"No, I wasn't"

"_And it wasn't your fault Harry was shot. Or that you were in Towers house that night. Or that Quincy died."_

"Stop it" he whispered.

"_It was Amy's fault she died too right? And Kenny? Who's fault was he?"_

"SHUT UP!" he yelled as his long fingers pulled at his over grown hair.

"_Hey, you're the one who's shouting."_

He stood in the middle of the road taking deep gasping breaths trying to get some kind of fix on where he was while trying desperately to push away the nagging fear that was slowly forcing its way to the back of his mind. It all came back to that stranger looking out of the mirror at him, the blank gaze that had so worried him and the fear that he may just be losing it.

"What's happening?" he asked the now empty road, his voice sounding small and frightened.

"_Do you really need me to tell you?"_

"I'm not crazy!" he said vehemently.

"_Sure you aren't. That was someone else who just tried to splatter you and Doug."_

Doggedly ignoring the taunting rasping tones he jumped back in the mustang and started to head back to Jump Street.

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Thinking back he had no idea why he had done it. He supposed it was for the same reason Quincy Thompson and her gang had gone around breaking into houses and playing chicken with roller coasters. To feel that rush, that adrenaline pumping through his veins, anything other than the emptiness that had plagued him for too long. It hadn't worked though, because as he watched the truck speeding towards them he realised he didn't care. Well, he didn't until he remembered who was sat in the car with him. When he remembered the look on Doug's face as he turned away from him he knew he should feel ashamed or sorry but he was just numb. It had been like watching someone else and it still was. He wasn't capable of driving his best friend to his death and leaving a five year old child all alone was he? At one time he could have sworn that he would never even be able to think about killing himself let alone anyone else. Hadn't he been the one going around preaching how suicide was wrong. It was like the slot machines in Vegas, he had once told Fuller, just the wrong things lining up for you. So just how many wrongs things had lined up for him?


	10. Chapter 10

After walking for hours around streets he didn't know trying to get his head around what had just happened, Doug Penhall came trudging up the Chapel stairs, his feet aching and his head spinning, wanting nothing but to collapse at his desk and pretend he wasn't there. After he had laid his partner flat on his ass that was. The only thing stronger than the urge to shout and scream at him was the nagging worry and fear that was knawing away at him. He couldn't stop thinking about that distant look in his friend's eyes and how it had seemed that it was someone else in the car with him. Or the fact that his best friend seemed to be developing some kind of death wish. However looking around the Chapel, his partner was nowhere to be seen. Somewhere between confused and worried Doug wandered over to Judy's desk.

"Where's Hanson?" he asked her.

"I thought he was meant to be with you. What with you guys being partners and all."

"Yeah well, I decided I'd walk back before I punched him out?" Judy's heart raced as any number of horrific scenarios flew through her mind. The way Hanson had been recently anyone of them was possible.

"What's he done know?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice level.

"Nothing much. Just pulled a knife on a seventeen year old kid." he spat.

"What?" Judy said her eyes growing at least five sizes as she looked up at Penhall. "Hanson? But he's hardly even touched his gun since Tower."

"That's probably because he prefers using blades now."

"He must have had some reason. This is Hanson we're talking about. He just doesn't attack people for no reason."

"Doesn't he? You wanna know what he did next?"

"What?"

"Nearly drove us under a truck." Judy opened her mouth to say something but her words died on her lips. "That's right. My best friend just tried to kill me."

"Hanson would never..."

"So I'm making it up am I?"

"I never said that. Are you both ok?"

"I am. Can't answer for Hanson though."

"And you just left him?" Judy yelled as she jumped out of her chair.

"Oh, come on? What's he going to do?"

"I don't know. Drive his car under a truck, maybe"

"He wouldn't do that."

"You're saying that after what you just told me. Doug he has been acting real weird lately in case you hadn't noticed."

"He's had a lot to deal with lately, or had you forgotten." Penhall retorted as his overprotective partner instinct kicked in.

"Doug, Hanson has not been himself lately and you know it. Threatening people, setting up innocent kids, turning up to work drunk, and now this?"

"I know. He just needs some time, that's all."

"So what do we do? Do we tell Fuller?"

"No!" Doug said a little too quickly.

"Doug, time is not going to fix this. He nearly killed you both."

"He wouldn't do that. He's just letting off some steam."

"He needs help, Penhall. I know you don't want to admit it..."

"Look, let's get one thing straight ok. Tom is my problem. He has been since the first day he walked in here, I know how to deal with him. Just because you cry on his shoulder and batter your eyelashes at him a few times does not mean you know what's best for him."

"And blindly protecting him is not going to help. This isn't some outside force threatening him with physical danger. What ever is going on is going on inside him. Can you protect him from himself?" Judy spat as her anger began to rise.

"I can try." Doug said, determination in his hazel eyes.

"Doug, your best friend is falling apart before your eyes and you're too blind to see it."

"I'm blind?!" Doug scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing" he snapped.

"Doug, if something's hurting Hanson I want to know."

"Why?" he replied, his voice bitter and accusing.

"Because bad habits are heart to break!" she snapped returning his glare. "I care about him and I want to help him."

"He doesn't need your help" he seethed. "Don't you think you've done enough?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, you work it out. One minute my best friend is fine, he goes out with you once and the next thing I know he's turning up drunk and trying to kill me."

"This has nothing to do with me." Judy yelled.

"Well he was fine before you started messing with him."

"Come on Doug. We both know he hasn't been 'fine' for a very long time now." Judy said trying to calm her voice. "If anyone has been messing with people its Hanson. One minute he's looking out for me, then he's yelling at me, then he's taking me out to dinner, where he accuses me of sleeping my way through the department. Yeah that's right." she snapped as Penhall's eyes widened. "Then he stumbles in here and drunkenly shouts out that he loves me. So you tell me Doug. What have I done to him?"

"I'm sorry, I'll sort it. He needs time out, and as soon as this case is wrapped up I'm going to make sure he gets it."

"Doug, when was the last time you really looked at him?"

"I see him everyday."

"Fine. Look in his eyes and tell me honestly that you can see Hanson looking back at you."

"Oh my god, does that detective badge come with a psychology degree now?!"

"You know what I mean, don't you?" she said staring straight into Doug's face. He didn't answer, she didn't need him to. His reaction told her exactly what she already thought. He had noticed, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Doug, will you listen to me..."

"I'm not discussing this anymore." Doug said through gritted teeth as he caught sight of Fuller heading their way.

"What's going on here guys" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing Captain" Doug answered shooting a glare towards Hoffs.

"Whatever it is, save it for later ok."

"Yes sir" both officers replied.

"Penhall, you and Hanson got anything new for me?"

"One of the kids, Casey Moore, offered to get us something with a little more range than a knife." Doug said meaningfully.

"A knife?" Fuller asked looking puzzled.

"Never mind" Doug said shooting Judy another withering glare. "We've got a meeting with him before school tomorrow."

"You gonna need any back up?"

"Against this kid? No. He looks like he couldn't even beat Elmo in a fight. In fact he makes Hanson look like the incredible Hulk. We'll be fine."

"As long as you're sure."

"Don't worry Captain. We'll lean on him, get him to tell us where he got the guns and have this wrapped up before first period."

"Let me know if anything changes." Fuller said. He turned to return to his office but before he had taken a step he spun back round. "Doug, where is Hanson?"

"Following up a lead. He wasn't convinced this kids telling the full story." he said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Ok. As I said, let me know."

"Sure thing Captain." Doug said. Fuller gave him another questioning look as he headed back to his office.

"Doug..." Judy began as soon as Fuller was out of earshot.

"I've nothing else to say Judy."

"Fine, you do what you think is best."

"That's just what I'm going to do." Doug said turning and walking away.

"Where are you going?" Judy called after him.

"To find Hanson" he answered before storming towards the stairs.

"What's going on?" Harry said rushing over, his scared, panicked eyes scanning Judy.

"Hanson's not doing so good."

"Yeah, I know." Harry said darkly.

"Doug told you what happened?"

"No. But I think you ought to see this" he said pulling a tatty sheet of paper out of his pocket and handing it to Judy. "I better warn you, it's not pretty." Her eyes widened and she gasped as she scanned the paper.

"This is Hanson's writing" she said as her voice shook.

"Yeah."

"Harry, what's going on?"

"I don't know."

"I've gotta talk to him." she said springing to her feet. Harry reached out and put his hands on her shoulders to restrain her.

"Judy, no. Doug's gone to find him. Let him talk to him first."

"Harry, I….."

"I know. But if he's going to open up to anyone it'll be Doug." he said looking directly into the young woman's eyes. Judy looked back at him, her expression scared and defeated as she collapsed back into her seat.

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On reflection Tom figured that driving around for hours around back roads he didn't know just so he could avoid facing people probably was taking the easy way out. Not that it mattered. He knew what would have happened anyway. They would have shouted and told him how much of a screw up he was, he would have agreed with them and apologised and they would have said it was ok and he hadn't meant to do it. Maybe he had meant to do it. Had they ever entertained that possibility? Of course not. That would have meant that there was something very wrong with him and then they would have to have faced the fact that they were at least partly responsible.

After spending hours putting off returning to the Chapel, he decided he'd rather go home, crawl into bed, pull his covers over his head and shut out the world. Maybe there was something really wrong with him? He had nearly just killed his best friend, the man who was as good as his brother, plus most people didn't have conversations with voices in their head.

_"Oh yeah, you're totally cuckoo pal!"_

"You know if I could cut you out I would."

"_Try it."_

"Fuck you!"

He arrived at his apartment and on opening the door he recoiled at the sight and odour that greeted him. The sour smell of stale whisky and rotting food assailed his senses and he looked in disgust at the disguarded empty bottles and packages that littered the floor and the barely touched food on the plates scattered around the room. How had he been able to even stand over the past few days he thought to himself as he began picking up the empty bottles. After a while, loaded with more whiskey and vodka bottles than he had ever seen in his life, he headed over to the kitchen area. Not being able to see where he was going, his arms being piled high with rubbish, he slipped on a diguarded packet of potato chips and fell crashing to the ground, landing clumsily and very heavily on his rear end. He raised his arms to shield himself from the glass that was coming crashing and splintering around him, letting out a string of profanities that his partners would be surprised to discover he even knew. Before long he was surrounded by shards of multicoloured broken glass. Following a very short argument with himself whether or not to just leave it be he began picking up the largest pieces. If only the mess his life had become was as easily tidied away. As he picked up a particularly large and jagged shard of glass he found himself looking at it in fascination. As it caught the light shining through the window it cast a whole spectrum of colours glistening over the wall. As he looked from the useless piece of glass to the rainbow on the wall he found himself thinking that maybe something beautiful could be salvaged from something you thought was broken beyond all repair. Even him.

_"Who are trying to kid. You're past all hope man. You know that"_

It was true he did. He had tried so hard to fix what was so wrong with him. But what's the point in trying when nothing was ever going to change? He had thought that quitting the job he had become so disillusioned with may have been the answer, but he had been unable to do that. Quitting the force would mean cutting one of the last ties he had to the father he missed so much, and he could never do that. It would also mean disguarding the last connection to who he used to be. He had thought Linda had been the answer, telling himself he was still in love with her after all this time, he hoped she would be able to help wipe everything clean. She was a link to his past, a time before any of this had happened, when he was young, innocent with his whole life ahead of him, shining brightly full of hopes and dreams. But she remembered the bright happy kid he had been. That was who she had been in love with, and this broken man with all those dreams firmly behind him, shredded and gathering dust, had not been enough to keep her there. Leaving Doug to bum around Florida with some girl from a magazine had seemed like a good idea at the time, it had almost worked too. He couldn't even remember her name now. Not that it mattered. What mattered was that she had no idea who he was, no expectations of him, and no knowledge of his past or the things he'd done and been through. For a while he had just been Tom and it had felt good, she had made him feel normal. Of course it couldn't have lasted. Costumes can only be worn for so long before the thread runs bare and they have to come off. When they had finally got Crane, and he had personally seen to it that he was safely where he belonged he thought he would be able to put it all to rest. But he'd found out years ago that revenge didn't solve anything.

Now his future was a giant black hole stretching out in front of him blocking everything else from view. He had tried to look round it, see what was on the other side, but it was just too damn big. The past stretched out behind him, full of regrets and mistakes. A thousand things he could have, should have done differently. Memories flashed across his mind of when he was small boy playing basketball with his dad in their driveway. He was too small to be able to aim for the basket with any accuracy and nearly always missed. When he did his dad would always call foul and let him retake the shot until the ball found the basket. He could really use a reshoot right now.

"_I think you're a bit too old for that now sport. You're an adult now, take responsibility for your mistakes." _

In life you only get one chance, there is no one to call a reshoot, and once that chance has gone no amount of money can ever buy it back.

He sighed deeply as he turned away from the bright colours and began turning the glass over in his hand. He found himself drawn to its ragged broken edge. One move and it would all be over. It would only hurt for a while and then he could rest. He could retreat into peaceful unconsciousness and none of this would matter. And to think, he'd once thought life so precious. Pulling back the long sleeve of his checked shirt and raising his arm, he examined the prominent veins glowing blue against the transparent skin on his too thin wrist. He wandered briefly when he had last eaten. It must have been days ago and even that hadn't been much. Not that it was that important.

"_Nothings that important anymore is it?"_ Harry's voice echoed in his ears.

"No not really no." he said absently still staring at the glass in his hand.

"_Go on. It'll be easy and over so fast you'll never notice it. All of this will be gone."_

"Will it?"

"_Yep."_ came the casual reply. _"No more guilt, no more shame and you won't be able to hurt anyone else. There won't be anything, only peace and quiet."_

It really wouldn't take much just one quick motion he thought to himself as he looked from the rough edge of the glass to his wrist. In a dreamlike state he brought the glass up to his wrist and drew the edge slowly across. He wasn't surprised to find that as the glass sliced through the pale skin he felt no pain whatsoever. He just watched in fascination as the blood began to flow, tracing along old nearly forgotten scars. It began very slowly but soon it made its way down his arm as he held it up to the light. He lowered his arm and watched the blood as it trickled down over his hand, and followed its progress as it dripped onto the floor. Before long a small pool had begun to form beside him.

_"There's a lot of blood on your hands isn't there?"_

"It's not as bad as it looks."

_"But it's not just your blood is it?"_

"Who else's would it be?"

_"I don't know. You tell me."_

"I thought you had an answer to everything."

_"Ok. How about Amy Pearson's? Kenny Wheckerly's? Am I forgetting anyone? Ronnie Seebok's maybe?"_

"I didn't kill them."

_"Then why do see their blood all over your hands whenever you look at them?"_

"Cos I feel responsible."

_"You are responsible. You're poison. Like a cancer that eats away at everything till there's nothing left but ashes and dust. Your lies and your hate ruined their lives."_

"I didn't hate them."

_"You can't lie to me pal. You hated Amy because she couldn't be who you wanted her to be and you were too gutless to tell her so. You blamed her even though it was your own fault. It wouldn't have mattered who she was, you would never have loved her anyway because you're not able to."_

"That's not true."

_"Isn't it? The way you treat Judy is how you are with someone you love is it?"_ Tom suddenly felt very sick. _"Why didn't you help Kenny when he asked you too?"_

"I had to follow procedure."

_"You weren't following procedure in that juve lockup when you let Matty die all because you thought you were too good to play the game."_

"He'd killed someone."

_"Who made you judge, jury and executioner?"_

"Probably the same guy who did you!" he snapped.

"_Jack Weaver. You screwed him over too."_

"He's not dead."

"_He may as well be, because you condemned him to a life he didn't want. You know how that feels, so why did you do it?"_

"It's my job!"

_"What about Ronnie?"_

"What about him?"

_"You hunted him down like a dog and then you stood and watched while they put him down like one even though you all knew he didn't kill that guy.. Now you see his face every time you close your eyes don't you?"_

"I couldn't help him. I tried but I couldn't, I wish there was something I could have done. I can't turn back time. That's why I can't get him out of my mind."

_"Its hatred not guilt my friend"_ the voice continued its tirade, and even though he knew he was alone Tom could've sworn he was talking to Dennis Booker. _"You hate him because he showed you what you've become. Used up, drained and hollowed out. You stood there and watched as his life slowly drained away. You watched a kid die and you felt nothing."_

"Shut up!" he yelled as he raised his hands to his ears to block it out.

_"That's why you cried. You weren't crying for his death you were crying for your own."_

"I'm not dead."

_"You might as well be. Just because you're breathing, doesn't mean you're alive. Look at your wrist. You're probably bleeding to death and you don't care do you?"_

And it was right he didn't. But then his life had been over the second he heard the words guilty as charged, maybe even long before that. Then they had taken away everything he was and everything he could ever be and replaced it with a few digits. Tom Hanson reduced to a faceless number. He had clung to that name like a security blanket, because behind those bars that was the only thing that was truly his. But even his name wasn't entirely his own. His father had taken it before him and now all it was was another label to live up to. Something else he hadn't been able to do. All those nights he had lain in that cell after the lights had gone out, listening to the clanging of the doors as they closed and the keys scraping in the locks, telling himself over and over again that he was Tom Hanson and he would get through this. Now at night he wakes in a panic and has to convince himself that he isn't surrounded by bars and locked doors. Nights had never held any fear for him before, now they fed his fevered mind with horrors he thought he'd left behind.

No, Tom Hanson had disappeared a long time ago. He had watched the system he had grown up believing was infallible and just, turn on those who were weak and vulnerable until finally it had turned on him and sent him somewhere he couldn't fight his way back from, while those he thought cared for him gave up on him and left him to rot. All except Doug, and he had repaid him by almost squashing him under the wheels of a truck. Whoever he was now, watching his life blood pool on Tom Hanson's kitchen floor, was a stranger to him. It looked like Tom Hanson, it had his life and his memories, but it was just a useless empty shell. Feeling light headed he struggled to his feet and made his way unsteadily and slowly over to the counter and picked up yet another half empty bottle of whiskey. Collapsing heavily back on the floor he drained half of what was left in one gulp before going back to watching the red trail running over his hand with the trace of a smile on his face. Because whoever he was now didn't want Tom Hanson's life, and the kids memories made him sick. He had danced to his soulless, empty tune for too long. He had tried to carry the melody but now for him the song was over, and, as old Jim Morrison used to say, when the music's over, you turn out the lights.

"Amen to that Jimmy" he said to the empty room as he raised the bottle and downed the remainder of the liquid still inside. Then he let his head fall back to rest against the wall as the lights were indeed turned out.


	11. Chapter 11

**Library Tech – thanks for sticking with this and stopping me from throwing in the towel. xxx**

**Goodnightmysweetprince – thank you so much for your kind review xxx I'd started to think this wasn't any good as people don't seem to be reading it.**

Now sat at his desk surrounded by the quiet of the chapel, he scratched absently at the healing wound beneath the flimsy dressing on his wrist. Of all the things to screw up he had to screw that up didn't he? He found himself trying to hold back laughter now that he thought about it, why he didn't know, because he didn't find it the slightest bit funny. In fact he firmly believed it would have been better all round if he had succeeded in his half assed attempt to end all this. After all you can't kill someone if you're not there to do it. In his very humble opinion it wouldn't have been a bad trade off, someone with their whole life ahead of them for someone for who life's mystery had well and truly faded. Had he failed on purpose? Was it some subconscious cry for help? Or just something else he was incapable of doing, being too much of a coward.

He didn't know. What he did know was how good it had felt and the sense of relief he had felt when that black curtain had come down on him. How much of a blessing it had been to slip away into nothingness, even if it was only for a while before he was cruelly swept back.

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He was woken by a loud banging that seemed to vibrate through his entire form. He struggled his way into consciousness, forced his heavy eyes to open and stared as the room came into focus. As he looked around, head resting in his hands, he began to realise that it wasn't a hammer banging on his head, someone was knocking on his front door. Slowly, as he got up, he began to feel that something wasn't right. He felt light headed, weak, slightly nauseous, and there was a strange dull ache in his right arm. It was then that he noticed the empty bottle he was still holding in his hand. "That might explain it." he said to himself as, dizziness assailing him, he grabbed the counter top for support. As he did so he noticed the sticky feel of his right hand and the slightly metallic smell that had begun to spread throughout the room. What had he done? Studying what he now realised was drying blood on his hand he noticed the semi healed gash on his wrist.

"Oh right." he said with mild surprise. "I'm meant to be dead now."

He turned his attention to the dried blood on the floor, and noticing the small puddle he glanced back at his wrist with a puzzled expression on his delicate features. He hadn't cut it nearly deep enough.

_"Congratulations, you can't even do that right. It won't even leave a scar"_

The banging on the door brought his attention back to his situation as his sour feeling stomach began to turn.

"Hanson, if you're in there open the door man."

"Shit!" he said under his breath. He couldn't let Doug see this. If Penhall knew what he'd done he'd go mad. Luckily he'd decided to bleed to death behind the counter where it wouldn't be seen.

"That was convenient." he said to no one in particular and letting out a small shaky laugh. Then he jumped out of his skin as Doug nearly knocked his front door in.

"HANSON!"

"I'm coming. Hang on, I kinda like my door where it is." With one last glance at the floor and after pulling his sleeve over his blood covered hand he made his way over to the door and yanked it open assuming his usual indignant manner.

"What?" he snapped as he stared Doug straight in the face.

"What took you so long?"

"I was sleeping."

"Sleeping?"

"Yeah. A lot of people do that you know."

"You look really pale. You sick?"

"No, I'm tired. Is there something you wanted Doug?" he said impatiently, wanting to be rid of him as soon as possible. He felt weak and disorientated and really didn't think he could deal with his partner's recriminations right now.

"Can I come in?"

"That depends on what you came round for."

"Well I came to tell you what an asshole you've been but Judy seems to think you need someone to talk to."

"Does she?" Tom said, his manner softening. She did still care, he hadn't completely blown it.

"_Of course you haven't. All girls love a nut case."_

"So." Came Doug's voice.

"So what?"

"Do you need to talk?"

"Not really?" he shrugged, trying to bring his partner into focus.

"Hanson, do you not remember nearly driving us to our deaths a few hours ago?"

"What?" he asked as he searched his mind for what Doug could be talking about and was shocked to find that he really had no idea what he meant.

"You tried to drive the Mustang into a truck."

"I wouldn't do that." he said suddenly feeling genuinely offended. "My dad would kill me. I've never even taken the car without asking. What?" he asked noticing the strange way Doug was looking at him.

"Your Dad's dead, Tom" he said nervously.

"I know. He has been for a while Doug, what's your point?" he said as his fingers massaged his temples as if he was trying to somehow force his muddled thoughts to knead together.

"Tom, are you sure there's nothing going on you want to talk about." he asked. There was that tone again, the one people usually use on the dying and the mentally ill. Well, he wasn't dying, despite his efforts, and he didn't think he was crazy. Did he?

_"Is that why you can't remember trying to turn you and your best friend into road kill?"_

"I didn't did I? I wouldn't." he said uncertainly looking up at his friend with wide scared eyes, suddenly the very picture of childhood innocence. Then he felt sick and ashamed as it all came flooding back in a flash of dust and screeching tyres. How could he have done that?

"Hanson!" Doug's voice came drifting through the haze.

"Yeah?" he said blinking stupidly in his partner's direction.

"Where were you just then?"

"Right here."

Doug was visibly getting more and more frustrated with Tom's behaviour. But he had known Tom for too long and he knew exactly which buttons to push and how to get through to him.

"Are you going to tell me why you nearly killed us both or are you going to stand here acting like a stupid child and pretending it didn't happen." Doug snapped viciously

"Hey!" Hanson shouted back at him stopping him in his tracks. "I would never **willingly** put your life in danger Penhall!" Doug smiled to himself and Tom knew why. He'd admitted he wasn't in control. Doug had done it again, played him like a fiddle.

"Talk to me." Doug said calmly.

"Think about it Doug. Automatic weapons, cops arming children. Does this ring any bells for you?" He felt a strange satisfaction as he saw this sick look on his partners face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"You never usually do. Your mouth and your brain have always had communication issues."

"Look, I just didn't make the connection ok? I certainly didn't think it would turn you into some nut job who wanted to see us squashed on the asphalt."

"Well, I'm afraid it's a little harder for me to ignore the similarities, seeing as I went to jail and all."

"Ok fine, I'll let it go. But you can't use that one again for at least a week" he said trying to lighten the atmosphere, but as usual only succeeding in putting his foot right in his mouth.

"I'm sorry. Are my issues an inconvenience to you?"

"All I'm saying is that maybe it's time you let that stuff go."

"It's that simple is it?"

"I didn't…."

"Thank you Doug. You've just solved all my problems. Now get out."

"Look, I didn't mean it that way. I know what you went through, and don't for one minute think I make light of it or don't appreciate what it must have been like for you. I'm sorry, I just don't know how to help." Doug finished, the hurt and distress on his face sending Hanson's shame switch into overdrive.

"Don't worry about it" he said with a sigh. He wasn't supposed to get angry. He was Tom Hanson, he was supposed to just take it, accept whatever they gave with grace and good humour.

"But I do. Look at what this is doing to you Tom. Have you seen the state of yourself? This place is a mess, you look like you haven't washed or changed your clothes all week, which for someone so organised you're verging on obsessive compulsive, is a little strange. The way you've been acting lately isn't you. One minute it's like you're this shell and there's nothing there, the next you're erratic and aggressive. The guy I know would never turn up for work pickled."

"It's not the first time I've done it." he said, and Doug could have sworn he detected a note of pride in Tom's voice.

"What?" Doug asked his eyes snapping wide.

"You heard what I said."

"How many times?"

"No idea." Tom said unconcerned. "I can't really remember".

Images of the past few months began to flash through Doug's mind. Tom's strange behaviour at Lincoln during the storm, which at the time he had put down to Hanson's cover, the way he seemed to be on another planet during their trip to Florida, it all began to fall into place.

"You see." Tom said with a smile playing on his lips as he watched Doug's face. "And you never even noticed."

"I never thought that was something I'd have to deal with where you're concerned."

"Since when did I claim I was perfect?" Tom snapped.

"I never thought you were." Doug replied defensively. "Tom, I'm scared for you. There's something going on here and I want to help you but I don't know what to do."

"Don't do anything. I gotta deal with it in my own way."

"Maybe you should pull out. Fuller can put someone else on this case." Doug said concerned. "Maybe you came back too soon. You didn't really get the chance to take time out and deal with what happened." Unfortunately, Tom had known Doug for quite while aswell and he too knew just how to deal with his partner. He'd discovered a long time ago that if you told Doug what he wanted to hear, calmly and sincerely, he'd believe every word you said.

"No, I'm fine, really. Things just started to get to me. I was blowing off some steam, that's all. I knew just what I was doing." he said softly as he met his friends troubled gaze. "Don't you ever just want to let stuff go?"

"I suppose so." Doug replied. "But nearly killing us both?"

"Since when did you start being a drama queen?" Tom said petulantly

"I usually get a little sensitive when my best friend tries to put me in an early grave."

"You weren't in any danger Doug. I wouldn't do that to you."

"_Really? Tommy wouldn't. I don't about you though"_

""I really wanna believe you Tom."

"You don't really believe I'd try to kill you?" he said softly, putting on his most pained and hurt expression.

_"You really should have been an actor you know. Marlon Brando's got nothing on you!"_

"No!" Doug said trying to sound reassuring. Tom could see him gradually making himself accept what he was telling him. For a moment he felt guilty. This was his best friend, the only one who had never doubted him, well not for long anyway, and he was lying right to his face. He knew Doug would walk through fire if he asked him to, walk over hot coals in bare feet with him on his back if he had to, that he would protect him from pretty much everything, just like he'd always tried to do. He had been like the older brother Tom never had, the one he so desperately wanted and needed as he was growing up. The brother that lonely, scared and over loaded kid had wished and prayed for in those few months after his father died and all the responsibilities had fallen on his scared and confused shoulders. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than for Doug to pull him into his arms and let him cry, to act like that older brother and protect him. But how could he protect him from any of this? Where would he even begin to explain? So as quickly as that desire had risen he shook it off and went for the kill.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you and Clavo."

"I know." Doug sighed wearily. Then his eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of Hanson's blood crusted hand. "What did you do?" he yelled.

"What now?" Tom replied rolling his eyes.

"Your hand." Doug said reaching out and taking hold of Tom's right arm, Hanson looked at his hand in panic and tried desperately to hold back the guilty look that was fighting its way onto his features.

"It's no big deal. I broke some glass and I cut myself clearing it up." he said pulling away from Doug's grip.

_"Bravo! Only bending the truth this time huh?"_

"You should clean that."

"Yes mom!" he said sarcastically before his head began to spin and he pitched forward through the doorway.

"Whoa, what's going on?" Doug yelled as he caught Hanson before he managed to hit the floor and began to lead him inside.

"Nothing." he said weakly as Doug helped him to the couch.

"Let me see that cut." Doug demanded in a panic as he grabbed Tom's arm.

"Don't touch me." Hanson snapped, snatching his arm away as if Doug's hand was on fire. "I told you it was fine"

"So you nearly just passed out for no reason?" he said searching his friends face. Noticing the glassy stare in his eyes and smelling the whiskey on his breath, Doug came to his own conclusions.

"Have you been drinking again?" he snapped. Seeing an opportunity to wriggle out of the situation, Tom jumped at the excuse.

"Yes Doug, I have." he replied, giving up his effort to keep his speech steady.

"Don't you think you've done a bit too much of that recently?"

"So?"

Doug looked into his partner's defiant face and was once again struck by how pale he was. The suspicion that had been nagging at him since he first saw blood on his friend forced its way to the front of his mind causing his stomach to turn. Before Hanson could move away Doug's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. He pulled up the sleeve and his stomach rolled as he stared wide eyed at the gash across his partner's wrist.

"Did you do this to yourself?" he asked in disbelief.

"Of course not." Tom replied, doing a very convincing job of sounding offended. "I told you what happened."

"Why don't I believe you?" Doug said coldly.

"Ok, fine. I did it alright. Happy now?"

"No. I am far from happy." Doug replied as he passed his hands over his face. "Why would you do this?"

"I wanted to see what would happen."

"You wanted so see what would happen? You'd die, that's what would happen." Doug yelled looking at Tom as if he didn't know him. Was this really the same guy who took it on himself to save an entire school from suicide?

"What was I supposed to you without you Tom? You're my best friend"

"Maybe you should learn to be a better judge of character and choose you friends more carefully."

"Jesus Christ! You're all the same. No thought for the ones you leave behind. No thought for the poor bastard who has to be the one to find you. Who did you think that was going to be? Me? Harry? Judy? That would have been real fun for her wouldn't it?"

"Never even thought about it." Tom spat.

"Do you really wanna die?"

"What if I'm already dead?"

"What?" Doug said blinking stupidly at his best friend. "Hanson have you completely lost your mind?"

"That's what you think isn't it?" Hanson spat.

"No I don't. I think you have a problem. What I don't understand is how you let it get so far that you thought this was the only way."

"Look around you Doug. I'm 25 years old with nothing to show for it but a single bedroom apartment in a lousy area and a million memories that I don't want." Tom shouted.

"We've all got those Tom. The difference is the rest of us don't try and take ourselves out. I don't even recognise you anymore, man"

"Fine Doug. I screwed up again ok. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. Just tell me what the hell is going on." he said, but Tom offered no explanation, he simply stared back blankly. Suddenly pure rage rose up in Doug's guts and he stood over Hanson with his eyes blazing.

"Look what you've done to yourself Tom." he seethed as he reached down and roughly grabbed hold of Hanson's injured arm. "Look at it!" he screamed in the smaller mans face. "You could have bled to death. Is that what you want?" Still no reply. "I said is that what you want?!" Doug yelled.

"What do you want from me Doug?" Tom asked in his calm soft voice.

"I want you tell me that this isn't happening. I want some sign that you still give a damn. I want to you to show me that you still care whether you live or die."

"Of course I do."

"Then prove it."

"And how am I going to do that Doug?"

"Come on." Doug said with a sigh.

"What?" Hanson asked suspiciously.

"Well that might need stitches."

"So?"

"So, we're going to the hospital to get it sorted."

"I'm not going to any hospital."

"Yes you are."

"Why, so they can treat me like some nut? Doug, I don't want anyone else to know. Please." Tom pleaded desperately.

"I can't take care of this on my own." Doug said, his voice sounding much calmer than he felt. Looking down into his friends face he felt nothing but panic.

"Yes you can. It's not that deep really. See." Tom said holding his arm out for Doug to see looking up at him with wide eyes. He could just about cope with Judy hating him, he deserved it, but the thought of Doug hating him was unbearable. Doug looked calmly back at him, pretty sure he could see the child Hanson had once been in the face looking up at him.

"Ok. What do I do." He sighed.

"There's a first aid box in the bathroom. There should be some bandages in there."

"Tom, I'm really not sure about this."

"It'll be ok. It won't need stitches, trust me."

"I used to" Doug said under his breath as he headed for the bathroom.

"_Not even your best friend trusts you. Oh dear Tommy, you have made quite a mess of things haven't you?"_

"I didn't mean for him to find out."

"_Well he did. His mom killed herself, how do you think he feels knowing his best friend just tried to do the same thing?"_

"If I'd have wanted myself dead I would have done it."

"This was a cry for help then was it?" Doug asked bitterly as he re-entered the room, startling Tom from his thoughts.

"_Well?"_

"Maybe, I don't know." Hanson replied frantically raking his hands through his hair. "Why are you so angry? You told me to do it."

"What did you say?" Doug said in disbelief.

"If you want to kill yourself, man, fine. Go for it. Just make sure next time there's only you in the car" Tom said, doing his best Doug Penhall expression. "Well this time I was the only one in the car."

"Don't you dare try and pin this one on me Tom. This is all down to you." he said angrily.

"That's right Doug, it's always my fault isn't it. Everything that's happened to me is my fault, right?"

"No, I'm sorry I didn't mean that." Doug sighed, walking on eggshells when you're Doug Penhall's size was never going to be easy. "Why didn't you just talk to me? Everything we've been through we've faced together. What made this so different?"

"Maybe I didn't want to face this."

"Tom, what's going on?" he asked as he took hold of Hanson's arm and attempted to clean the wound.

"Aren't we just going round in circles here?"

"We can go round in circles as long as it takes." Penhall replied, letting go of Hanson as he noticed him flinch. "Sorry did that hurt?"

"Yes" Tom snapped.

"Good."

_"Tell him. You need help."_

But he didn't want Doug's help. All he wanted was to be left alone. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to think, just wanted to be alone with the quiet and sleep until none of it made any difference anymore. The thought of sleep pulled desperately at him, that and the thought of the Jack Daniels he had picked up on the way home. Of course sleeping always brought nightmares, but they hadn't bothered him for a long time. They were like old friends. It was waking up he couldn't deal with. For that cruel split second when he woke up everything would be fine, then it would all come rushing back and then all he'd want to do is sleep again.

"I don't understand you man. It wasn't all that long ago when you were the great crusader against suicide who was going to save everyone."

"Maybe I got tired of trying to save people." Tom sighed. "I don't see anyone trying to save us do you?"

"What do you think I'm doing here Hanson?" Penhall cried in frustration.

"I'm sorry." came his automatic response.

"I've told you I don't want your apology, I want you to talk to me."

"What do you think this past year has been like for me Doug?"

"Pretty rough I'd guess."

"Like sleepwalking."

"What?"

"You know this didn't even hurt." he said distantly, gazing at the cut on his wrist as Doug began to bandage it as tightly as he dared. Doug looked at him, his face as mask of deep concern.

"You remember me asking you what was the point in survival if you didn't like what you'd become?"

"Yeah?" Doug replied warily.

"Well, I'm still trying to figure that one out."

"What do you mean?"

"How many more lives have to be ruined because of us Doug?"

"We don't ruin lives, our job is to protect people."

"You were protecting Jeff Logan were you?" Tom asked ignoring the hurt on his partners face.

"No. I was protecting his daughter."

"From what Doug? He was innocent, just like Ronnie." he finished distantly

"Ronnie was far from innocent."

"He didn't deserve to die."

"Maybe not, but neither do you."

"I deserved to go to prison."

"Don't say things like that."

"Why not. It's true. Were not exactly innocent ourselves Doug."

"Whatever we've done is for the greater good."

"I used to think that." Tom said quietly. Penhall glanced over at him trying to interpret the expression on his pale face.

"You know Hanson, we're not exactly the bad guys either."

"I know." he said softly. "We just blindly follow orders, don't we?" he said letting out a small bitter laugh. "We may as well have signed up for the army. We're sent out there risking our lives to fight without even knowing what the hell we're fighting for. The only difference is there's no hero's welcome for us. There's no ceremony when one of us is killed. And what do we do? We just tell ourselves we're fighting for what we believe in, even if we've forgotten what it was we believed in to being with."

"And have you?"

"I don't know." Tom said raising his eyes to meet Doug's gaze. Doug shivered as he looked back at those empty dark pools.

"That should do it" he said lightly looking away as he secured the bandage.

"I'll be as good as new before you know it." Tom said offering a weak smile.

"You sure about that?"

"Doug….."

"Have you seen anyone about all this?" he asked softly. Tom let out a sad chuckle.

"The magic cure. Spend a few hours telling your inner most thoughts to a complete stranger and you'll be fixed."

"It might help."

"Paying some guy to tell me what I already know? I don't think so."

"Ok. Then will you at least go to the hospital and get a doctor to check that out."

"I don't need a doctor." Suddenly seeing a way out of this Hanson made a show of checking the clock on the wall. "Hey, what time is it? Shouldn't you be picking up Clavo?"

"Not till 6."

"Doug, it's nearly half past."

"Shit! Not again. The kids gonna have social services on me."

"Not if you hurry." Tom said with a slight smile.

"I'm not leaving you like this."

"I'm not going to try anything else Doug, I promise."

"Hanson…."

"If I really wanted to kill myself Doug, I'd have done it."

"I know, you said" Doug sighed. "You'll be ok right?"

"Yes."

"Sure"

"I'm fine Penhall, go."

"Ok. Don't forget we gotta meet Casey around 8."

"Yes I know." he said impatiently.

"And at least try and keep from doing anything else stupid."

He sat stunned by Doug's parting shot. As he watched him race away he jumped up as best he could and followed him out into the hallway. When Doug was nearly at the top of the stairway the person buried deep down inside the shell that looked like Tom Hanson suddenly gained control of the voice.

"Doug!" he shouted out desperately as he began to follow him down the hallway.

"What?" he spun round at once looking concerned. Unfortunately that long suppressed soul wasn't strong enough to keep control very long and he was forced quickly back down where he came from. What was the point in screaming when there was no one there to listen?

"About today. I'm sorry."

"I know." Doug said.

"Are we good?"

"I'll let you know." the larger man replied. "I used to believe I could trust you with my life. I don't know if I can do that anymore." he finished quietly then disappeared down the stairs leaving Tom watching after him, feeling empty and numb.

_"You're getting very good at that you know."_

"What?"

_"Lying."_

"It's what they pay me for." he said as he turned back into his apartment and closed the door.

He surveyed the mess of glass and blood and began digging around in the cupboards for something to clean it away while Doug's parting words echoed in his ears. He knelt down and poured water on the pool of dried blood and couldn't imagine what the hell he thought he was doing.

_"You thought you wanted to die."_

"But I don't." he said resolutely

"_No. You just thought you could get rid of it, just like you did before."_

"I don't know what you're talking about".

"_You're lying again Tommy."_

"You know something Booker. You were an ass when I knew you and you're an even bigger ass now you've gone."

_"Can't run from the truth Tommy!"_ came the words as if they were an echo from his dream. But he couldn't run from the truth. That was the problem. And the truth was he really didn't want to die. Dying's easy, it's living that's the hard part. He certainly didn't want his best friend to be the one to have found him. But he didn't want this life, that was also true. He wanted a life that meant something, one that still held the possibility for hopes and dreams. And as he knelt on his kitchen floor scrubbing away at his own bloodstains, his head spinning and aching, Doug's parting words echoing in his ears, he found himself wishing that lives were like different rooms and that you could go from one to another as easily as stepping through a doorway. Wishing that once you were through you could close and lock that door and turn your back on it for good.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks as always Library Tech and Ghostwriter. Always good to hear from you xx**

**And thanks to Debbiets. I'm not used to being called intelligent ;0) xx It's nice to know you're enjoying reading my little tale.**

Doug carried a disgruntled Clavo hurriedly up the steps to Jump Street Chapel, his mind reeling and threatening to revolt against him. No matter how many times he tried to reassure himself that he had done the right thing, that Hanson might be many things, but suicidal wasn't one of them, he still couldn't shake the feeling that his friend was in serious trouble. He knew he shouldn't have left him alone, but Clavo came first. The kid always had to be his priority. He hoped Hanson understood that, in fact the part of Doug Penhall that knew Tom Hanson better than anyone had the sneaking suspicion that his partner not only understood that, but had been counting on it. He needed help here, as much as he could get.

A relived smile crossed his face as he entered the building and saw the glow of the light still shining through the glass of the door to Fullers office. He had hoped he'd still be here, of course where else would Fuller be?

"Penhall, what are you doing here. Have you no life to get back to?" came Sal Banducci's cheery voice from behind him as he and Harry wandered over. Intent on his mission, Doug simply handed the young boy to the scruffy janitor and smiled absently at the young Vietnamese man.

"Keep an eye on him will you?" he said distantly as he headed towards Fullers door. Sal glanced over at Harry, shrugged and grinned at the little boy in his arms.

"Come on kid, let's see what we have round here for you to play with."

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"Come in" Fuller called as heard the knock on the door. He was slightly surprised to see Penhall walk through the doorway. "Doug? What are you doing here so late?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Doors always open Doug." he said with a sigh as he closed his filing cabinet and sat down at his desk. When he had signed on for this job he never thought he'd have to play counsellor to these kids. He was so fond of his young officers, but they seemed to live inside some never ending soap opera of which he was an unwitting participant. "What's on your mind?"

"It's Tom, Captain."

"What about him?"

"Well I'm worried about him. He seems really strung out."

"How?" Fuller said calmly as he listened intently to the younger man. He had been watching Hanson very closely over the past few months and there were things that had caused him concern. His detachment had been worrying to say the least. He had found it strange that Hanson, who knew every word of every code like the back of his hand, had been so disinterested in sitting the detective's exam. Fuller could have swung it so he could sit it in a second, but he hadn't wanted to. Hanson had always been so passionate and fiery, so much so that Fuller had found it difficult to accept this placid and unquestioning version of the young man that kept popping up these days. Well, he was placid and unquestioning when he wasn't framing kids for possessing fire arms. That had been even more unsettling. Hanson had always been so by the book, and always so intent on helping these kids. More than that, he had been locked away for someone else's crime, and the idea that Tom would even think of letting an innocent kid take the fall for him seemed inconceivable.

"You've seen the way he's been lately. Captain, sometimes when you talk to him it's like he's not even there, like he's on some other planet and he doesn't even see you."

"Yeah, I got that feeling yesterday."

"I can't even remember the last time I saw him smile when he wasn't pretending to be someone else. In fact the only time he seems content is when he is someone else."

"What are you trying to tell me Doug?"

"I don't know. I think he came back too soon." Doug said simply sitting down heavily at the chair opposite Fuller's desk, then deciding he felt better standing he began pacing back and forth in front of him.

"Why?" Fuller asked, content to let Doug talk and vent his worries.

"When he was released, I picked him up, he drove home grabbed some clothes then brought us straight back here. He didn't even take five minutes to rest Captain."

"It's understandable he would want to get back to normal as soon as possible Doug."

"But what he went through wasn't normal. He never had time to adjust to being free again before he came back here and had all this responsibility dumped on his shoulders again. And then to come back here and face all these people who gave up on him and turned their backs on him, that can't have been easy."

"He knows we all believe in him." Fuller said quietly.

"I didn't mean you Captain." he said apologetically. "Then there's this case. It's really messing with his head. I know it was hard for Harry to have to deal with this, but it's not easy for Tom either."

"I understand what you're saying Doug, but what do you expect me to do about it? If Hanson wants to continue being a cop he's going to have to learn to put things aside, these cases are going to come along, and he's going to have to deal with them."

"But so soon?"

"You really think he's struggling?" Fuller said, deep concern evident in his rich deep voice.

"Yeah, I do. He's drinking way too much and he's acting really weird."

"Ok. I'll talk to him, but you know Hanson, you can't make him do anything. If he wants me to pull him out, it's done, but if not there's not much I can do. After all this is done, I'll see about getting him some time off."

"That might not help Captain Fuller." Doug said darkly.

"What's going on Doug?" Fuller asked, suspicion in his deep voice. Penhall looked back at him, his mind in torment. He kept seeing Hanson's face when he pleaded with him not to tell anyone. But this wasn't like the times he'd skated round procedure and Doug had covered for him, this was serious.

"I think he tried to kill himself this afternoon." Doug said quietly, staring intently at the floor.

"He what?" Fuller blurted out as he jumped up from his seat. Doug nodded nervously. "Is he alright?"

"I think so, for now anyway."

"How did he do it?"

"Does that make any difference?"

"It kinda tells us how serious he was."

"I don't think he was that serious." Doug replied, trying to convince himself more than his captain.

"What did he do Penhall?"

"He cut his wrist." Doug yelled, before stammering on frantically. "But it wasn't that deep. He was a little dizzy and pale but apart from that….."

"Doug, slow down" Fuller said gently. "Is he ok?"

"I really don't know sir."

"How was he when you found him?"

"I dunno. Kind of disorientated and pale. He tried to hide it but he nearly passed out while we were talking."

"How long had he been like that?"

"Hard to say."

"Try and say Doug. Was the blood clotting? Still flowing?"

"I can't remember" he said frustrated. He had been trying so hard not to look at what Hanson had done to himself that he hadn't really been able to tell. "I think it was starting to scab over."

"Had he lost a lot of blood?" Fuller asked calmly, trying to keep his own panic under control. Doug looked back blankly as he realised he had no idea. He didn't even know what he'd used to cut himself with.

"I don't know." Doug said helplessly. "I never even thought to check, I was too busy screaming at him." He said, his voice raising as his slammed his fist into the nearest filing cabinet. "My best friend tried to kill himself and I just left him."

"It's ok Doug."

"No it's not! I should have stayed and kept an eye on him, let him talk some more." he ranted.

"Penhall….."

"But I was late getting Clavo. The kid comes first Captain, you understand that don't you?"

"Of course."

"I tried to make him go to the hospital but he wouldn't go, so I sorted it myself. It really wasn't that deep." Doug said desperately.

"I believe you Doug." Fuller said trying to clam the younger man. "Did he tell you why he did it?"

"Not really. Guilt I think. He's been beating himself up over Ronnie Seebok and Kenny Wheckerly for a while now, and I don't think he's really ever gotten over Amy." He said before looking away uncomfortably. "I think he's still having problems with what happened."

"You mean prison?" Fuller asked. Doug nodded his head. "That's to be expected." Fuller said thoughtfully.

"You know he's never actually talked about what happened in there. He barely even mentions it." he said feeling a twinge of guilt as he recalled unfairly ribbing Tom for using prison as an excuse.

"Don't you think that maybe he's trying to put it behind him?"

"I think what happened today pretty much shows he hasn't. It's not just that though. There's so much going on in there" Doug said tapping a finger to his temple. "and I can't seem to get through." he finished as he turned his hazel eyes on his commanding officer, those usually cheerful eyes showing nothing but worry and fear. Fuller's heart ached for the young bear like officer who, at this moment looked more like a wounded puppy.

"I'm sure you did what you could Doug. Hanson's never gonna tell you anything if he doesn't want to, no matter what you do."

"I know that." Doug said almost apologetically. "Irritating, stubborn little runt." he finished under his breath, raising a slight smile from the older man.

"Does anyone else know about this?" Fuller asked.

"No."

"Ok, keep it that way for now. The last thing he needs is to feel we're all ganging up on him."

"This isn't like it was with Amy, Captain, I could deal with that. This is different. I really don't think he cares what happens to him anymore. What's wrong with him?"

"I'm not an expert Doug, despite what I like you guys to think."

"So take a guess." Doug said desperately.

"How much have you heard about post traumatic stress syndrome?"

"Not much. You think that's what it is?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"That's for people who've been in wars and stuff isn't it?"

"It can affect anyone who's been through a traumatic and stressful experience. I think it's safe to say we could put any of you guys into that category."

"I guess so." Doug sighed. "He's been through so much, we all have. Captain, he's my best friend, please help him."

"I'll do what I can Doug."

"You'll talk to him?"

"I'll try."

"You won't tell him I talked to you will you? If he finds out he'll kill _me_."

"I won't tell him anything Doug."

"So what will you do?"

"I'll make him tell me."

"You think that will work?"

"We'll see."

"What are you going to do?" Doug asked harshly as his overprotective streak kicked in.

"I don't know yet, Doug. But I'll do whatever I can. In the meantime, we'll all keep an eye on him."

"Anything that might help." Doug said looking at his commanding officer gratefully. "Thanks Captain." He loved Tom dearly, and he would do absolutely anything for him but he was relieved to have some of the responsibility for his welfare lifted from his shoulders. He had spent most of his adult life looking after him and it had become such a weight over the years, which was funny as Hanson actually weighed very little.

"Doug." Fuller called as Doug turned to leave. "If he does anything that causes you anymore concern don't be afraid to come to me ok?" he finished, convinced the younger man was hiding something. Doug nodded and left the room.

Fuller watched him leave, concern in his serious dark eyes. He had always been proud of how close his team was, especially Penhall and Hanson. Doug's fiercely protective streak and Hanson's unflinching loyalty and compassion had meant that he never really had to worry when he sent them out into the field. He always knew they would take care of each other and it made his job a lot easier. But over the years it had seemed that the happiness of one had begun to depend heavily on the well being of the other, it had been all too clear while watching Doug after Hanson had been sent down, and he had begun to wonder weather this was entirely healthy.

As Doug entered the main office he couldn't suppress a grin when he heard Clavo's giggle echo through the almost empty room. He was perched on the edge of Doug's desk, a smiling Harry standing guard behind in case he fell, as Sal stood before him showing the boy exactly why people called him Blowfish.

"Vaminos little buddy." he said as he picked the kid up effortlessly in his arms. "I should have been your agent." he said to Blowfish with a grin. "We could have made a killing."

"I don't think they're quite ready for my unique talent out there." Sal replied with a cheerful grin.

"Nah, with the right kind of representation you could clean up."

"You mean with your kind of representation?" Sal replied.

"Hey, I discovered you."

"True, But if it was up to you I'd be stood in front of a crowd full of first cousins with only three teeth between them."

"Rule number one Sal," Doug said reproachfully. "Never insult your audience." he said with a grin. Then glancing round the room he asked "Where's Judy?"

"She said there was something she had to see Hanson about." Sal replied as Harry's eyes widened. Doug, however felt a ten tonne weight lift from his chest. If Hanson had done anything else stupid Judy would have raised the alarm by now.

"Everything ok with Fuller?" Harry asked, his eyes that had been so full of laughter just seconds ago now filled with concern.

"Yeah, fine." Doug replied cagily. "I gotta go. See you Sal" he finished as he smiled at the small scruffy man.

"Sure." Sal replied.

Harry followed after him, telling himself that this time he wasn't going to just let it go.

"Hey Doug?"

"What's up Harry?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Make it quick can you, this little guy's kinda tired."

"Ok fine." Harry said impatiently. "I'll get straight to the point then." Judy still had the scrap of paper Tom had been scribbling on, but it didn't matter. What had been printed on that page was stamped forever on his memory. "Does the number 77988 mean anything to you?" he asked, scanning Doug's face intently as he did so, witnessing the colour drain away before the shadow of anger flitted briefly across his features. Of course he knew what it meant. He had seen it written down so many times and heard it repeated during countless phone calls when dealing with anything to with Hanson over those horrible few months. What he didn't know was how the hell Harry knew about it.

"Yeah. It was Hanson's roll number when he was in Fulsom. Why?" he said trying to sound nonchalant and unconcerned, but not being entirely successful. For a moment Harry toyed with the idea of telling Doug everything Hanson had told him, whether he had been aware of it or not. But what if he found out that he'd told Doug. Tom would probably not trust him again, and then who would be there for him to turn too? No, best to keep his word.

"I've just been sorting through paperwork and it kept popping up. I was curious." Ioki replied, also failing to convince. "Doug, have you noticed anything weird about Hanson lately?"

"You mean aside from playing with guns? Not really."

"You don't think that was a little strange?"

"He was just in a bad mood. You know Hanson. He'll get over it."

"Yeah sure." Harry sighed. "He hasn't said anything that's made you feel a little nervous?"

"Hanson always makes me nervous Iokage." Doug said with a grin. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Has he ever mentioned hearing things you can't?"

"What?" Doug said as his eyes became unnaturally wide and he let out a small nervous laugh. "Are you saying Hanson's some kind of nut job?"

"No" Harry said defensively.

"Good. Because he isn't." he said still not sounding entirely convinced himself.

"Doug, Judy told me what happened?". Doug's head shot up and he glared at Harry in panic wondering how Judy had known what happened, before he realised that Harry meant the events of much earlier that day. Harry noticed the panic flit across the larger man's face and it made him uneasy.

"He was goofing around Harry. That's all."

"That not what Judy said you told her."

"Yeah, well I over reacted."

"Doug, what aren't you telling me?"

"Let me deal with Tom, ok. He's fine, trust me"

"Really? What were you talking to Fuller about?"

"Err… our case?" Doug replied as if Harry had asked the most ridiculous question ever.

"What about it?"

"We've got a meeting with the dealer tomorrow. It was Casey Moore this whole time." He said laughing slightly. "I'm sorry Iokage, but I've really gotta go." he said as he shifted the struggling Clavo into a more secure position.

"Doug…"

"Gotta go" he shouted over his shoulder as he made his way as quickly as possible towards the exit.

"If there's anything you want to tell us Doug, you know where to find us." Harry called out watching after him suspiciously as he left, Clavo peering over his shoulder with his bright little eyes as he waved goodbye.

Now with nothing for him to do but wait and pace the hallways Harry could help letting his mind wonder. Looking back he kicked himself for not pushing Doug further, for all the things he should have done differently. He was sure that there was something that Penhall and Hanson were keeping from him. But he knew it was pointless asking Hanson, and he couldn't really ask Doug right now. In a way he couldn't blame Doug. He had done the same thing. He guessed for the same reason Doug hadn't wanted to hear himself tell people what was happening. Hearing it out loud made it real and it was hard to admit that someone you had come to depend on so heavily was crumbling right in front of you.

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The room was familiar. He recognised the pictures on the mantelpiece, knew every face by heart, and recognised every painting on the wall. The furniture was exactly the same as it had been his entire life. Even his mother's favourite ornament he had chipped when he was tiny was still on display. But something was very wrong. He could hear a woman crying, sobbing like her heart would break, her wails cutting through him like razor wire, but he couldn't work out where it was coming from. She had to be in the house somewhere, it sounded too close.

As he spun round searching the room for any sign of the woman he spotted another presence in the room. A young kid with dark hair stood with his back to him, focused on a large object in front of him. The kid reminded him of Casey Moore, he definitely couldn't have been much older. He wasn't much bigger either. He took a step towards the figure and opened his mouth to speak when a voice came from the figure before him.

"When is she going to stop?" came the boy's quiet soft voice. He'd heard that voice before, but for the life of him he couldn't place it. "She never stops, hasn't in days. She doesn't even stop to sleep." the boy sighed. "She wouldn't eat or drink if I didn't remind her to."

"Where is she?" he asked, not sure why, but the idea this kid should be forced to listen to her wails seemed altogether wrong.

"Upstairs. Same place she's been for the past week. She won't leave the room. I'm supposed to be taking care of her, but I can't even get her to walk through a doorway."

"Is there anyone to help you with her?"

"No. It's my job now." The boy replied, steely determination in his voice. "That's what they said. _You're the man of the house now, you've got to look after her._ I am trying." He heard those words as if from a great distance, like daggers in his heart. "This lady came round the other day, I don't know who she was, said she wanted to help us but my mom wouldn't let her in the house. That's the only time she's left her room."

"I'm sure you're doing your best." he tried to reassure him, his own voice beginning to waver. He felt like he should comfort the kid somehow, but for reasons he couldn't explain he didn't want to touch him.

"It can't be good enough. If I was taking care of her properly she would have stopped crying by now."

"Why is she crying?" he asked, for some reason dreading the answer. The boy simply pointed to the object he was so focused on, which he now realised was a large oak coffin. What was a coffin doing in here? There was never a coffin in here. Was there?

"My dad" the kid said calmly. "It happened last week."

"I'm sorry." He swallowed nervously. "So the lady upstairs…."

"My mom" he replied matter of factly. "That's my dad in there, shouldn't someone be looking after me?"

"She's grieving. It'll be ok." he said taking a deep breath. "Why is the coffin here?"

"I ran out of money, I couldn't pay them to store it, and I don't know how to get to my parents bank account." He shrugged still keeping his back to him. "They nailed down the lid. I want to go with him, but I can't open it."

"You don't mean that."

"It's gotta be better than this."

"The pain goes away, I promise." he said, sounding very unconvincing.

"You're lying." Came that calm soft voice.

"I've gotten pretty good at it." He said with a rueful smile.

"You've done a lot of damage with that talent haven't you?"

"Yeah."

"I was going to make him so proud of me you know. I wanted to be just like him"

"Your dad?"

"Yeah. I was going to grow up to be someone he could really be proud of."

"I bet he will be."

"How can he be? I won't get the chance now." the boy said slowly turning to face him revealing high prominent cheekbones and wide deep brown eyes staring out from the pale face. "Why did you let them kill me?" he asked fixing an intense stare on him. He gasped, realising he was looking into the dark, hurt filled, but completely dry, eyes of his sixteen year old self.

"I didn't."

"You're lying again. How did you get so good at it? I could never lie. Mom and Dad knew I was lying as soon as I opened my mouth."

"This can't be happening. This is crazy." he said shaking his head.

"No, I'm afraid you're crazy." the boy said sadly.

"No I'm not."

"You have been for a very long time."

"You're not real."

"I'm as real as you are. And you still haven't answered my question. Why did you let them kill me?"

He opened his mouth to reply but the words stopped dead as he heard a cry from upstairs.

"TOMMY!" he heard the woman yell. The boy put his hands over his ears and began to violently shake his head.

"Make her stop. Please. Please make her stop."

"TOMMY WHERE ARE YOU?".

He reached out and gently pulled his hands away, noticing a scar he had had for years wasn't there yet. If he remembered rightly the scars wouldn't start appearing until after the funeral.

"You have to go look after her. It's your job."

"I can't do it anymore." the kid said weakly.

"You have to."

"Why do I have to?". He had no answer to that. "And why should I listen to you. You're a murderer."

"No I'm not." he protested his voice beginning to sound more and more like the teen stood before him. Both their heads spun round as there came a banging from the wooden box behind them. The kid turned scared eyes on his older self.

"Why did you let them do it?" His older self screwed his eyes shut tight and tried to shut out the banging from the coffin, the relentless questioning from the kid in front of him and the distraught cries from the woman upstairs. His eyes flew open as rough hands grabbed hold of his wrists and he found himself face to face with the white face and cold dead eyes of Ronnie Seebok.

"Why man?" he asked. But that wasn't Ronnie's voice, he was sure of it. That voice was….

"Matty?" he said as the kid appeared before him.

"Tell me why goddamit!" he almost screamed in the officers face.

"I don't know." he whispered back weakly. Matty just smiled and continued looking back as the banging from the coffin grew louder and the woman upstairs continued calling.

"TOM!" Only it wasn't his mother's voice. It was Amy's, calling out the only word he could ever remember that voice saying. His hands flew to his ears but they couldn't shield him from the maddening cacophony that was assailing him. Over and over he heard them.

_Knock knock knock._

"_Why did you let them kill me?"_

"_Tom"_

"Tom!"

His eyes flew open, his breath coming rapid and sharp, and he found himself on his couch, in his living room. Not his mom's living room all those years ago. And that voice calling out his name wasn't his mom and it wasn't Amy.

"Judy?" he called out dazed.

"Please let me in."

He looked desperately at his surroundings, trying to make them real. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, he couldn't even remember lying on the couch. He let out a sigh as his fingers gripped his hair, almost pulling a handful out, before unsteadily getting to his feet. What was she doing here?"

"_Persistent little thing isn't she? Or maybe she's just too stupid to quit."_

He screwed his eyes shut tight trying to be rid of the nagging, taunting voice, telling himself it didn't matter. She was stood outside. She hadn't given up on him after all. Taking a deep breath to try and slow his breathing he walked towards the door and slowly, tentatively, began to turn the handle, scared that when he opened the door all he would see would be the empty hallway. But when the door swung back she was there, her brightness piercing his eyes and making his heart ache. Why was it that the only person who could make him feel whole again was the focus of so much of his anger?

"_Because you don't get to be whole. How many times do you have to hear this? You're not well at all Tommy."_

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice cold and distant, while inside he was screaming out for her to wrap her arms around him and never let go and that scared soul inside him was begging for help. The distant shell on the outside however was totally oblivious to the horrified expression on the young woman's face as she met his eyes.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks." he said dryly, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to talk to you. I think we have a few things we need to sort out, don't you?"

"No."

"Call me strange Hanson, but when someone I care about tells me he loves me I find that pretty difficult to ignore. Especially when he's falling to pieces in front of my eyes."

"Still got everything attached as far as I know" he said flashing a brief smile.

"Hanson…"

"Look, I've already spoken to your not so little errand boy. Why don't you ask him all the details and give me some peace?"

"Because I can't." she said, trying to keep her frustration and hurt under control. "Did you mean it?"

"What?"

"What you said yesterday morning?"

"What did I say?"

"You don't remember? There's a shock, considering your blood was probably 70 proof by the time you got in yesterday."

"Well then you'll excuse me if my memory's a little hazy."

"Dammit Hanson, stop this. Did you mean it?"

"If I meant it every time I got trashed and told a girl I loved her I'd be in quite a bit of trouble don't you think?"

"Are you deliberately trying to hurt me?"

"_Yes!"_

"Of course not."

"Then stop this and talk to me."

"What's wrong Judy? Doug not get enough dirt for you so you thought you'd come and make the little puppet dance some more?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Doug came here off his own bat."

"You expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with Doug's little visit?"

He laughed softly. Usually that laugh was capable of driving her wild, she hated how much like a love sick teenager she sounded, but his laugh could make her heart sing. But at that moment it sent shivers through her of a very different kind. The laugh didn't touch his eyes and it sounded cold and empty. It was like an echo in a vast empty cave.

"You think after all this time I don't know when you guys are plotting?"

"We're not plotting anything Hanson"

"You think I don't know what you're doing? Whispering in corners with your heads bent together."

"We don't whisper in corners. We're your friends and we worry about you."

"Why?"

"Because you're changing so fast it's like we don't know you anymore."

"Why does there have to be something wrong with me just because my behaviour doesn't match your expectations?"

"Because in the four years I've known you we hardly had a cross word between us. I've never seen you deliberately hurt anyone, or endanger someone's life" she said staring intently in those strangely distant eyes looking for some reaction. But there was nothing in those eyes. For a moment she came to the awful conclusion that Tom wasn't there.

"He told you." He said flatly.

"Of course he told me. He cares about you."

"And you expect me to believe you aren't talking behind my back?"

"Listen to yourself. You sound like a spoilt child."

"Isn't that supposed to be my job?"

"You used to think of it as more than a job."

"Yeah well, things change." he said quietly.

"Not this much. "

"Do you think maybe you didn't know me so well in the first place?"

"Maybe I didn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just how many versions of you are walking round lately Hanson?"

"Why? Is one not enough for you?" he said with a sly smile.

"I'd just like to know which one I'm talking to because one of them told me yesterday I was his only reason for living. Then there's this other one who seems to get a kick out of hurting his friends." she said as calmly as she could.

"I don't know." he said in barely a whisper as he suddenly became very interested in the floor. She watched his face intently, unfathomable expressions flitting across his still too youthful face. She often thought it cruel and somehow wrong that someone that had been through so much could still look so innocent.

"_She's right you know. You haven't a clue where you are, how you feel. You don't even know who the hell you're supposed to be."_

He shook his head violently, tried to shut it out, but as always it wouldn't leave him alone. All he wanted was to be alone, to hear nothing around him but empty silence.

"_So who are you? The little victim? The murderer? The teenage delinquent? The hero cop's kid? Who do they want you to be Tommy? That's who you should be isn't it?"_

"Hanson…." Judy began softly but was cut off as his head snapped up and she was met by eyes that were no longer distant but black with anger.

"What?" he snapped.

"What's 77988?" she asked bluntly hoping to provoke him into talking to her.

"What?" he said as his eyes blazed and his face went as white as a ghost. "Where did you hear that?"

"That doesn't matter. What does it mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything." He replied, his voice shaking and hoarse.

"What is it? Tell me."

"Don't do this to me Judy. Please." he said as those much too wide eyes stared back at her. Ignoring the overwhelming desire not to cause anymore hurt, telling herself he needed to let out whatever it was that was hurting him she continued pushing.

"What does it mean Hanson?" she asked softly and calmly.

"It's me ok."

"I don't understand."

"Good. I don't want you to."

"Why?"

"Let it go. It doesn't matter"

"It obviously matters to you." She said as she pulled out the paper Harry had shown her and thrust it into his hands.

"What's this?" he asked shakily as he stared at the scrap of paper.

"Don't you know?" Judy replied, panic and worry reaching new levels inside her guts.

"This is my writing." he said confusion clouding his features.

"I know."

"I don't understand."

"You don't remember doing this?" Tom shook his head slowly before glaring accusingly at her.

"Have you been going through my things?" he asked, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

"No."

"Where did you get this?"

"That's not important."

"What am I, some exhibition for you all to gawp at?"

"No, you're not."

"But you seem to think its ok for you to invade my privacy."

"It is when there's something obviously going on and you won't tell me."

"That's because it's none of your business."

"I care about you. That makes it my business." she replied, trying to remain calm. "Help me understand."

"You want to know?" he said coldly. "This" he continued as he held the paper before her face, "is all that's left after they've chewed you up and spat you out. This is what they reduce you to when they have no further use for you. They spend years trying to sell us lies, and like an idiot I bought them, time and time again. And you know what, after a while you start to believe them. That everything we do is for the best. You listen to their bullshit over and over again until one day you look in the mirror and you don't recognise the face looking back at you. Because everything you believed and everything you thought you were was a lie."

"You don't believe that."

"I don't know what I believe anymore. To tell you the truth I don't care."

"You used to."

"I know. Too much." he laughed sadly. "But what has that got me Judy? Only this." He continued waving the paper at her again. "When you're useful too them you're just about the best thing going. But when you have nothing more to give all you are is that, just another statistic and they leave you to rot. Even though everything you have ever done is because they asked it of you. We go out and do the dirty work, we're the ones who end up with blood on their hands and that is all the thanks you get."

"Hanson, please…."

"Do yourself a favour Judy, look after yourself. The rest don't matter as long as you don't give a shit."

"That's not you talking." Judy said softly.

"I don't see anyone else here."

"If you really believed that you wouldn't be in this state. You hurt because you care."

"That's one more reason not to."

"What is it you believe isn't your fault Hanson?" she asked reaching out and gently taking the scrap of paper from him and showing him the scattered words he scrawled.

"None of it was ever down to me you know. I was only doing my job. You believe that don't you?"

"Of course I do" she said carefully, trying to find away to break through. "What do you think you did?"

"Don't push me Judy, please."

"Why?"

"Maybe its better you don't know." he said sadly. For that split second she saw it. That light that she had watched dancing in his eyes for years. It was only a brief flicker, but it was there nonetheless and it gave her a glimmer of hope.

"Why won't you let me in? What have I done to you that's so bad as to make you hate me?"

"Do you really think I hate you?" he said looking at her with a genuinely bemused expression on his face.

"It would explain a lot."

"I'm sorry if I made you feel that way" he said sadly as his face softened. "Nothing could be further from the truth."

"Then talk to me, please." The pleading in her voice brought his eyes round to look at her, peering through the heavy fringe as they always seemed to, just as they had that summer when she was so sure that all the games and false starts had come to an end.

"I can't" he said in barely a whisper. For some reason she couldn't explain a thought flashed across Judy's mind. "Listen closely and you can hear them scream" she thought. But what that meant she had no idea. So, like once again she knew him inside and out, she reached out and put her arms around him, surprised to find he offered no resistance.

"You can tell me anything, you know that don't you?" she said as she held him tighter. "You're one of the most important people in my life and there is nothing you could say that would change that."

"I wish you hadn't said that." Tom said, his voice sounding weak and tired.

"Why?"

"Because I meant every word I said to you, Judy." he said quietly as he pulled slowly away, his words making her heart skip.

"You did?" she asked not daring to hope. He simply nodded his head and glanced uncomfortably away as if distracted by something.

"You have no idea how long I have waited to hear you say that." she said shakily, and she cursed herself as tears began to cloud her vision.

"But it's not that simple."

"What's complicated about it?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You wouldn't do that."

"How do you know. I've already hurt so many others?"

"Hanson, stop this. Whatever you've done I'm sure you thought you were doing what was best."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions" he said distantly.

"Hanson…."

"I can't do this anymore. It's too hard." he said suddenly burying his head in his hands.

"What are you talking about?" Judy pleaded, close to tears now.

"I can't be who you all want me to be."

"We don't want you to be anyone but yourself."

"What if all I am is twisted and poisonous?"

"You're not. I know you're not. You're a good person"

"I was once. I've tried to be. I've tried so hard."

"And you still are."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I think I'm falling in love with you Hanson" and god save her she was. "But, I'm scared I'm losing you."

"Judy" he said smiling softly and gently touching his hand to her face. "How could you lose me?" That soft smile remained fixed on his lips and he leaned in close to her. His face was inches away and she could feel his breath as his hand stroked her long curls. As he drew near enough so that their lips were mere millimetres apart that smile was replaced by a cruel sneer and that usually soft voice came out harsh and dripping with malice.

"You can't lose what you never had."

"_How much can you take before your heart breaks Miss Hoffs?"_

"Less then 48 hours ago you were telling me I was all that kept you going. You just told me you meant it. Is this part of some twisted little game you've got going?" she asked, her eyes boring into his. As she watched him it was as if suddenly something in him broke and it was as if all the anger and fight seemed to drain away.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked dully

"Tell me the truth."

"You people never want to hear the truth."

"Try me. What's going on in there?" she said reaching her hand out to touch him. He shied away as the anger and shame returned with a vengeance.

"You don't want to be touching me Judy, you don't know where I've been, Fulsom prison's little plaything, you could catch anything. Anyway psychosis may be contagious."

"I never said you were crazy."

"Didn't you?!"

"_So? She's right."_

"I'm not giving up on you."

"Why not? It was easy enough for you last time." he spat.

"I never gave up on you."

"You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." He said as he held the door open for her.

"There are lots of people who care about you Hanson. Don't push them all away."

"I wouldn't have to if they walked away without being pushed." he said gesturing towards the empty hallway.

"Hanson, I don't understand why you're doing this"

"Neither do I." he said raking his hands through his hair nervously, his hands shaking. He really needed a drink. "You have to go now." he said, an edge of panic to his voice.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you're doing this?"

"It wasn't a request Judy." he snapped.

"Tell me why?" she said, her voice raised slightly in frustration.

"I don't know. Just get out will you, please." he said. He sounded drained but underneath she could sense something almost pleading in his voice.

"Fine." She said coolly. "But I meant it. I'm not giving up." she finished as she stepped out into the hallway. As she began to walk away she turned round, desperate to get through to him somehow, and was surprised to find he was stood behind her. She met his gaze and was relieved to actually see Hanson looking back at her.

She opened her mouth to say something to him but before the words were even formed on her lips they were stopped dead as he pulled her into his arms and closed his mouth over hers. At first she was too stunned to realise what was happening, but then the simple fact that this was all she had wanted for such a long time, his arms around her, feeling his warmth against her, that for that moment nothing else mattered.

When he pulled away he rested his head against hers holding both her hands in his looking at her dark skin against his own pale fingers.

"I'm so sorry." He said softly, "Please don't give up on me." he said before quickly turning and retreating back behind the door of his apartment leaving Judy stood alone stunned in the hallway.

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Tom stood alone, his back resting against the door and his eyes squeezed shut. Why was he doing this?"

"_Because you're not well."_

"Shut up!" he screamed, anger and frustration boiling over, as he began raging through his apartment, over turning chairs and tables, scattering the objects resting there across the floor, and throwing any object that came to hand.

Eventually, tired and out of breath he sunk to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"_You're torturing this poor girl. You know that don't you?"_

"Yeah."

"_Do you care?"_

"What's the point? The more you care, the more you have to lose".

"_They've really done a number on you haven't they pal?"_

"It's not their fault. You said it yourself. I'm poison."

"_So you know what to do, you've done it before."_

"Cut it out."

"_That's right, cut out all the bad stuff."_

Suddenly it all made so much sense. It wasn't him that was the problem. It was the poison that had got inside him and was eating away at him. If he could get it all out everything would be ok. Just like it was before. Plus, he'd had a head start this time he thought as he examined the bandage that covered the half healed wound on his wrist. He pulled out the flick knife he'd had in his pocket since that morning and turned it over in his hand under the light remembering how easy it had been all those years ago.

He remembered it so well now. After pushing it away for so long it was suddenly as fresh in his mind as if it had been only yesterday.

_It had been the day after his father's funeral. His mom had been sobbing her heart out upstairs again and he was desperate for her to stop. What gave her the right to claim all the hurt for herself? He had been his dad as well as her husband after all. This thought had made him angry enough to march straight upstairs and burst into her room where she lay crying, sprawled on what had been his dad's side of the bed._

"_Stop it" he said causing her to jolt upright and glare at him. He seemed surprised by how calm he had sounded seeing as how angry he felt inside._

"_I beg your pardon?" she said shakily._

"_You heard what I said. Stop it." his voice still sounding calm and reasonable. "Have you heard yourself or seen the state of yourself recently?"_

"_Tommy…."_

"_NO! I don't want to hear it. You're pathetic do you know that?"_

"_How dare you talk to me to like that."_

"_Oh I dare."_

"_You should show your mother a little more respect" she said, her young son's words briefly snapping her out of her grief._

"_Respect has to be earned. All I see is a selfish pathetic woman stewing in self pity." he said, sounding so much older than his 16 years which only served to make him angrier._

"_I've just lost my husband."_

"_And I've just lost my dad. Doesn't that matter?"_

"_Honey, of course it does."_

"_Then don't you think that you should be looking out for me instead of me having to watch over you acting like a hysterical kid."_

"_You selfish ungrateful brat." she had yelled followed by a hard sharp slap across her son's face. His hand shot up to his burning cheek in shock as he looked back at his mother, who's eyes, so much like his own, burned with anger and pain. He couldn't even remember his mom raising her voice to him, yet here he was with her hand print forming bright red on his cheek._

"_I have spent years of my life taking care of you, don't you think maybe it's time you paid some of that back while I grieve for my husband? You evil, poisonous……." she stopped dead as she saw the look on his face. "Oh Tommy, I'm so sorry."_

"_NO, it's ok. You're right." he said calmly, his anger and feeling of injustice wiped away by his guilt and shame. "I'm the man of the house now right? I should take care of you. I'm sorry." he finished as he left the room. He heard her calling after him but he didn't reply, just walked calmly down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was right, he was an evil selfish person. His mom was heartbroken and only wanted her son to take of her like she had him all these years. And what had he done, he had gone and hurt her some more. He couldn't even take care of his own mother properly. That was when it had all got too much and he couldn't cope with the pressure any longer, or all these awful, evil feelings that made him hurt his widowed mother._

_That had been the first time he had taken his mom's kitchen knife from the draw and, standing over the sink so as not to stain the tiled floor, sliced open his arm from the elbow to just above his wrist. Very soon he felt light headed and all the pressure that had been sitting like a heavy weight suddenly lifted from his chest and he could breath again, as if the pressure was now flowing down his thin arm into the sink below him, and the poisonous feelings down the drain with it. He stood there watching it for the best part of 30 minutes before calmly walking over to the neighbours house, knocking on the door and quietly asking if they could drive him to the hospital because he'd had an accident and his mom was in no state to deal with it. _

Over time he had come quite adept at hiding it and it took a long time before any one noticed that something wasn't right with little Tommy Hanson. Now nine years later the older version of Tom Hanson stood over the sink in his own kitchen reopening along that same scar with the knife he had threatened Chris Tyler with earlier that day. And just like that day 9 years ago, he felt huge relief as he watched the thin stream of red swirling down the drain. Reaching over for that bottle of good old Jack he had promised himself after Doug had left earlier that day, he stood watching all the sickness that had invaded him, caused him to hurt those he loved and made his fellow inmates look at him with that hunger in their eyes, disappear into blackness.

"_Bad blood will out sport. Cut it all away."_


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks for the reviews folks. Glad to hear you're enjoying it xx**

As if just thinking about it made the recently reopened wound itch, his eyes moved from the spot he had been staring at on his desk to examine the crisscross of scars that decorated his right arm. Some of them years old, some freshly scabbed over. He had been mildly surprised at how easily he had fallen back into the old pattern. All the work he had put in to get past it, all these years he had spent trying to forget about it, pretending that the scars on his forearms were from some accident he somehow couldn't remember, just for it to come flooding back like it was yesterday. That moment when the blade pierced his skin and the blood and started to flow had felt like the moment when you release the valve on a tyre and all the pressure comes leaking out. He wondered if junkies felt that way when they shot up. Only this wasn't so much getting high as it was a release. A release from all the pressure of people's expectations of him, a release from the guilt and self loathing that had been growing stronger by the day, like the gaping empty hole inside him. A release from the weariness of a life that had turned out to be nothing but a lie, based on making a dead man proud. The feeling that if he didn't let something out he would burst had been overwhelming. Then as he had watched the blood trickle slowly down his arm an eerie sense of calm had suddenly descended on him and it had been like he had floated up and was watching himself from the ceiling of his apartment and it had felt good. That was the problem. Because after that first time after his father's funeral it had become like an addiction, the only way that scared, confused and lonely kid had known how to cope. And even though the 25 year old man sat in the almost empty Chapel was a million miles away from being that same boy, he had still felt that incredible sense of relief. Unfortunately once he had realised what it was he had done that old familiar feeling of shame had come crashing in on him. How could he have been so stupid? What was wrong with him couldn't be drained away and washed down the sink. It ran much deeper than that. It was like a cancer that had got into every pore, into his very bones and was eating him alive. It was something he couldn't just cut out. All it had offered was that brief moment of release and that had been well and truly outweighed by the panic and shame as he sat applying pressure to the cut and remembering Doug's recriminations of earlier that evening. Even now he could still see Doug's angry, hurt expression floating before his eyes, and the hurt on Judy's face as she'd left that night. But he'd done it since then and he knew he'd probably do it again too. Sure, he could try and fight it, but fighting had just got too damn hard and he felt too weak and tired. Never in his life had he felt so much like crying, after everything that had happened he supposed he should, but still the tears wouldn't come. He knew Judy was waiting for him, and was probably fretting herself into a panic, yet he still found no compulsion to make a move. That was something else he didn't feel like he had the energy for right now. In fact he felt as weak as he had the morning after as he had waited with Penhall, rather sulkily, feeling quite woozy and looking paler than he ever had in his life.

He had been sat on the hood of his car in the school parking lot, his head spinning and struggling to keep his eyes open. Neither of them had mentioned the events of the previous day, but it had obviously been difficult for Doug to trust him enough to climb into the Mustang that morning. He had seen the distrustful and nervous look in his partner's eyes all too clearly. He had also noticed how closely Doug had been watching him, looking at him so intently it felt like being x rayed. The unspoken words hung between them like a brick wall that neither man had the courage to begin to climb. So many times he had opened his mouth to try and explain to Doug what had been going through his mind. But how could he explain it when he didn't understand it himself, he barely even remembered it, and that scared him. Maybe they were right and he really was losing his mind. He played the phrase over and over in his head. That phrase had always conjured up images of wild eyed, crazy haired, panic stricken people running into a room tearing at their hair screaming 'Doc I think I'm going crazy!'. Maybe when you really did lose your mind it was much less dramatic. Maybe it was just like someone had been slowly chipping away over the years, so slowly that you barely even noticed it until it was too late. Was it too late?

"_What do you think?"_

He passed a hand over his face and found himself feeling incredibly old. 25 years old and he felt at least 80 as he sat there wet and cold, his partner standing silent and distant beside him.

Over the years it was rare that a minutes silence had ever passed between them, there had always been so much to say, to laugh about, but today they had waited here for almost an hour and not a word had been spoken. The silence was knawing on his nerves and the rain pelting down on them wasn't helping the atmosphere. It was much too early to be out in the rain, he thought looking up at the grey sky with a grimace on his face. Still he made no attempt to shield himself from the icy rain and biting wind. The chill that ran through him reminded him he was still there.

"So why are we here so early?" he asked, his voice vague and distant.

"Because this way I could drop Clavo off at day care before we had to be here."

"Remind me never to have kids."

"I wouldn't wish you on any kid." Doug said with a small grin at his seemingly disgruntled partner, falling into the pattern of pretence that came so easily, all too easily over the years.

"What time did he say he'd be here?" Tom asked with a sigh.

"He said just before eight."

"And what time is it now?"

"Nearly 8:15" Penhall mumbled doing his best not to make eye contact.

"I could be back at the chapel drinking bitter stale coffee." he said while scratching absently at the healing wounds on his right arm.

"You're always whining about how bad that coffee is."

"Yeah, but it's not out in the rain is it?"

"Why don't you just sit in the car then and stop moaning. Jesus Christ, I swear sometimes it feels like I'm married".

"You wish. I'm way outta your league. Anyway, if I sit in the car the seats will get wet."

"It'll dry."

"Yes, but it will make it harder to peel off all the fast food wrappers you insist on decorating my car with." he said glaring at his partner through his dripping wet bangs.

"You weren't so bothered about your car yesterday were you?" Doug mumbled.

"What?" Hanson snapped a dangerous edge to his voice.

"Nothing." Doug said uncomfortably. He could smell the ghost of whiskey still hanging on his partners breath and he felt slightly disappointed in him, unaware that the large amounts of alcohol in his best friends system probably had a great deal to do with why Hanson hadn't yet bled to death.

"If you've got something to say to me Doug, just say it." he snapped. If Doug was having some sort of contest to see who could pretend the longest he was willing to concede.

"I don't have anything to say to you Hanson."

"Ok, fine. I'll say it for you shall I?"

"Stop it Tom."

"No. I know what you're thinking. Well here you go" he said holding his arms out towards his partner, not worrying whether his friend saw what he'd done or not. But knowing Doug as he did he had the vague suspicion that he had no intention of inspecting his friends arm for self inflicted knife wounds. Despite what Doug said, Tom knew deep down he trusted him and believed in him without question. He always had, the poor bastard. "You wanna check to make sure I've not done anything else stupid?"

"I don't need to." Penhall said finding himself unable to make eye contact.

"Hey, if it'll put your mind at rest check all you want. I don't care."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not gonna do that."

"Why? Scared what you'll find?"

"Drop it Hanson."

"We're good at that aren't we? Dropping things and pretending it's not happening."

"Some of us are better at it than others" said Doug meaningfully.

Seeing the look on the smaller officers face Doug braced himself for the coming onslaught and inevitable argument. His eyes lit up however when he spotted the figure of Casey Morris headed towards them huddled in his coat. Nudging his partner he pointed in the direction of the scrawny teen. Watching him as he got nearer, Tom began to agree with Penhall. This kid really didn't look like he could have known anyone with the means to get hold of these kinds of fire arms. Still it was all right there before them. He had offered to get him something with a lot of range. Maybe he was going to try and sell them a pea shooter.

"Hey Doug? What's the going rate on a pea shooter these days?" he said grinning at the puzzled look on his friend's face. Suddenly, for no reason he could think of, other than that the idea of smuggling peashooters into school seemed extremely funny to him, Hanson burst into hysterics. He had almost forgotten what it was like to just laugh. It felt good and he'd missed it.

"What?" Doug asked looking back at him with a strange expression on his face. That look was like a slap in the face and gradually Hanson began to regain his composure.

"Well, they wouldn't set the detectors off." he said shrugging his shoulders.

"I'll deal with you later." Doug said quietly as Casey finally reached them.

"You're late" Hanson said, choking back the remaining laughter.

"Sorry. I couldn't get away."

"Never mind. You got the stuff?"

"What stuff?" Casey asked looking decidedly uneasy. This was clearly not something this kid did very often.

"Come on man. You said you could get us some proper firepower."

"That's right I did. But before I get the goods for you there's a few things we need to discuss." he said trying to sound a lot more confident and threatening than he was.

"Like what?" Doug asked.

"Payment."

"How much are we talking about?"

"That depends on what you're after."

"Say we wanted an AK and an Uzi" Tom said quietly. "How much?"

"It's not about money guys. I'll let you know when I talk to my supplier."

"Your supplier?" Doug asked.

"Yeah. He wants to meet you first. He likes to know who he's dealing with, likes to know you've got the right kind of potential. I set up the deal, he completes it. He gets the final say." Then with a nervous laugh he said, "I thought you guys knew about it, actually."

"Why?" Doug said puzzled. When he thought about it Casey was the perfect dumb kid for this operation. Who would ever think it was him?"

"Well most kids at this school don't look out for people without wanting something in return. So when you guy's started backing me against Tyler I thought you were after me hooking you up."

"No. We're just friendly concerned citizens looking after our fellow students." Doug grinned. Casey looked nervously at the smaller brother, as if looking for confirmation.

"Hey, I just had nothing better to do." Hanson replied.

"Well, I appreciate it anyway." Casey said.

"Right, sure." Tom said with a slight smile. "So if this supplier of yours doesn't want cash, what is he after?"

"That's up to him to discuss with you."

"So when can you set up a meeting?" Doug asked.

"I'll let you know. Mr Petrelli's a very busy man."

"So what was the point in us coming here?" Tom asked becoming more irritated.

"I wanted to make sure you were serious." Casey said simply.

"You like having influence don't you?" the younger McQuaid asked with a sly smile, thinking that this kid was obviously not as tough and confident as he was trying to make out.

"_Well, you'd know!"_

"Doesn't everyone?"

"What?" Hanson asked startled

"Everyone likes to have influence."

"Probably. Look, we're deadly serious, so set it up as soon as you can before we find someone more efficient ok."

"Don't do that, I'll set it up." Casey said, an edge of panic to his nervous voice.

"When?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I talk to Petrelli."

"Ok." Tom replied. "Just one thing Casey? Where does Petrelli get these guns from?"

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"He likes to know who he's selling to, I like to know what I'm buying."

"It's not my place to tell."

"So why do you this Casey?" Doug asked.

"What's it to you?"

"Just interested in why a guy like you is mixed up in this."

"Doesn't matter" the kid replied become more agitated.

"Is this where you get all that money from?" Tom asked.

"Maybe."

"So why did you decide to be so generous to us?"

"You guys seemed like you would he usefull."

"For what?" the smaller McQuaid asked.

"That's something else you'll have to ask Petrelli."

"Looking forward to it" Tom said wearily.

"Good" Casey grinned. "You really had no idea?" he asked looking at the scruffy 'siblings' with wide hopeful eyes.

"Not a clue" Hanson replied dully. Casey smiled at them with a mixture of pride and huge relief as they made their way through the heavy rain towards the school building.

The next time they saw him later that afternoon, everything was in place. It had all happened so quickly, after a month of getting nowhere it was suddenly snowballing. Maybe he should have tried threatening people with knives a long time ago. It would have saved so much wasted time, he thought bitterly.

He should have seen it coming. If he'd have been paying attention to what had been going on instead of wallowing in his own self pity they may have been better prepared and Fullers advice when they reported to him that afternoon may have sunk in.

He walked into the chapel behind Doug's weary figure, doing his best not to meet Judy's gaze. He figured it would be better for both of them if he just let her be. But he couldn't help watching her as she leafed through the papers on her desk. Why had he been so stupid? She had been right there and he had screwed up yet again. Drunkenly shouting that he loved her after accusing her of using him was probably not one of his best ideas. Then his little episode at his place would only have made things worse. But she had said she wasn't going to give up on him.

"_Whatever you want to believe buddy. I wouldn't hold your breath though._

As if she could feel his eyes on her, she looked up from her paperwork right into his face. He noticed the familiar and somewhat maddening concern in her face as she flashed him a warm but tentative smile.

"_She thinks you've completely lost it you know. That's if your behaviour hasn't screwed her up just as bad."_

He briefly returned her smile then, sighing deeply and turning away, he followed Doug into Fullers office.

"How did it go guys?" Fuller asked as they entered the room.

"Still working on it Captain." Doug answered leaning against the filing cabinet.

"What do you mean you're still working at it." he said, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Do you see any guns?" Tom snapped holding up his empty hands not noticing Fullers scrutinising glance towards what this movement had exposed of Hanson's arm.

"You wanna drop the attitude Hanson? Just tell me what happened."

"He didn't bring the guns and he doesn't want money" Doug told him. "It's starting to feel a little weird to be honest, Captain."

"How so?"

"He say's that before we get anything he wants us to meet with his supplier, make sure we've got potential so he said. Some guy called Petrelli" Tom answered.

"Anthony Petrelli?"

"He didn't mention any first names. Why?"

"You guys have never heard the name before?" Fuller asked seemingly surprised. Now that Tom thought about it the name did sort of ring of a bell but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Should we have?" Doug asked.

"He was big news a while back, kind of an urban legend. He built up quite a following a few years back, had a few guys running protection racquets around the city. People kept turning up beaten half to death, businesses he was known to have 'looked after' started getting broken into and torn apart two or three times a week. The department set a whole task force on the guy but they could never make anything stick."

"Why not? If they knew what this guy was doing surely they could prove it?"

"You'd think so Hanson. You see a lot of witnesses decided they'd made a mistake and withdrew their statements and valuable evidence began to disappear. Turned out that half their task force was on his payroll, including the guy heading it. The biggest problem was that no one could actually ID the guy. You see, only a handful of people ever saw him, and those that did were leaned on so hard they refused to even confirm the guy existed. In fact people began to believe he didn't, that he was some sort of symbol thought up by this mob to give them some clout."

"Is he real?"

"He must be. Most of the guys he had working for him were put away years ago. So unless someone decided to use a myth to make a name for themselves, which is possible, I'd say he was as real as you are. Problem is you can't lock up a myth. Not unless you can ID it and prove it's real."

_"Look at that the system works. This is what you risk your life for? You can't think its worth very much."_

"I don't" he said, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Why not?" Doug said making his best friend jump out of his skin. "It's obvious. How else would he know where these weapons were and be able to get to them if he didn't have people in the department in his back pocket?"

For a few moments Tom sat feeling totally disorientated, his eyes darting nervously around the room trying to follow the conversation as the voices of his best friend and commanding officer drifted over his head. What was wrong with him?

"So what happened to him?" Doug said snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Disappeared. No one's seen him or heard from him since."

"Until now." Tom said dully.

_"That's it pay attention like a good little soldier."_

"Is there any word on the break in?" he asked trying to push it out of his mind.

"No. We're still waiting for them to send the report over."

"There's a surprise." Doug said bitterly, "More bureaucratic procedure and red tape."

"I don't understand coach." Hanson began thoughtfully, "Why would he be arming children. Casey said he's not after money, so what does he want?"

"Blind obedience. Get them while they're young. Less likely to ask questions and if he provides them with things they think only he can offer, their loyalty is pretty much guaranteed."

"But what could a bunch of teenagers do for an ex mob boss?"

"That's what you've gotta find out." Fuller said eyeing the two young men seriously. "When's this meeting set up for?"

"Tomorrow after school. We've got to meet Casey in the parking lot." Doug told him.

"Ok, go meet him. I'll get a couple of units there as back up. I don't want anything going wrong."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hanson snapped suddenly.

"It means I want to make sure you and Penhall aren't going to be in any danger." Fuller replied, throwing him a questioning glance. Just then there was a knock on the door and Harry poked his head round.

"Excuse me Captain, I ran the names of the Greenwood students against the department files."

"And?"

"It turns out Casey Moore's stepfather works Major Crimes. A Sergeant James Mathews."

"You know him?" Fuller asked turning to Doug. On hearing this name something sent warning bells off in Hansons tired and muddled mind, but no matter how hard he coined his memory he couldn't work out why.

"No. I saw him around a few times. He seemed like a decent guy." Doug replied.

"Well according to the guard on duty the night of the break in he was seen hanging around quite a bit before the guns were taken."

"Did they find his prints?" Doug asked.

"As far as we know they didn't find any prints." Fuller said.

"For all we know they could have already caught the guy and conveniently forgot to tell us." Hanson said.

"Maybe." Fuller replied.

"Captain." Harry interrupted. "Casey more isn't the only student at Greenwood with close relatives in the department."

"Who else?"

"All the kids who were expelled have fathers, uncles or older brothers in the police force."

"You're kidding?" Doug said

"No. Everyone one of them. Nathan Marley has an uncle on patrol down in Piedmont" he said cutting off for a moment as he noticed Hanson flinch. "Tracy Bradwell's older brother is in narcotics. Carl Miller, Kevin Baker, Mark Storey and Sam Nicholls all have fathers serving either on patrol or down at HQ".

"All bases covered." Fuller said thoughtfully "What do you think?" he said turning to Hanson.

"_Yeah, come on Tommy, jump up and tell him what's in your pretty little head. He's looking to you for answers. You don't want to let him down again do you?"_

"I don't know. Using the kids as leverage to get want he wants from the relatives?"

"_Good boy!"_

"Seems pretty likely."

"So what does he want from them?" Doug asked looking from his partners to his commanding officer.

"Whatever it is he must think its worth a lot." Harry chipped in.

"What have you got?" Fuller asked looking over at the slight Vietnamese man.

"It seems that all these guys were in pretty deep trouble financially. The bank was about to foreclose on Mathews house, then a few days before the bailiffs were due to pay a visit he was suddenly able to get his hands on $20,000."

"Petrelli's doing?"

"That's my guess." Harry replied.

"He gets them out of trouble and they pay him back anyway he sees fit." Doug said thoughtfully.

"Which in this case means helping him run guns. And then using the kids as insurance" Tom said sadly.

"_A man after your own heart huh?"_

Hanson had to choke back the urge to scream and yell to block the taunting voice out. Then running his hands through his overgrown stringy hair he took a deep breath and the strange calm of the night before suddenly returned.

Ok, go meet with them, but be careful guys. If this Mathews is with them Doug he might recognise you."

"We'll tread gently Captain." he reassured him.

"I know you will. And you might need these." he said, opening his desk draw and handing them back their guns. Then he turned to the young man sat opposite him with the far away glazed eyes.

"Hanson, you got a minute?" the older man said effectively dismissing Penhall and Ioki with a glance.

"Sure" he replied with a sigh.

"How you handling this?" he asked as he closed the door behind the retreating men.

"Ok. Why?"

"I just thought the circumstances might be a little difficult for you."

"You mean because last time we had anything to do with a cop helping to arm kids with deadly weapons I ended up jailed for murder? What made you think that would bother me coach?"

"I don't know. Call it a hunch." Fuller snapped out of frustration, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I'll understand if you want to pull out."

_"Yeah, of course he will. He won't think you're a weak quitter at all."_

"Have you been talking to Doug, Captain?" he asked lightly.

"No. I don't need to. I know you well enough by know to know that you're not as good at hiding things as you like to think you are."

"Meaning?"

Fuller looked at the younger man and let out a weary and frustrated sigh.

"Tom, have you ever heard of post traumatic stress syndrome?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You think maybe you ought to find out a bit more about it?"

"You think I've got post traumatic stress syndrome?" he asked slightly amused.

"Are you going to tell me different? If you don't talk to me Hanson, I can only come to my own conclusions" Fuller said looking back at him with grim determination. "You've been through a lot of heavy stuff recently, no could blame you if it's all gotten too much."

"Stress maybe. But there's nothing traumatic about it, post or otherwise."

"If it is too much and you need time out I can sort that out for you."

"That won't be necessary Coach. You can't pull me out this far in. I'll be fine."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're old cynical and jaded." Tom said grinning at his commanding officer.

"That's true." Fuller said smiling slightly. "Which is why I want to try and stop you turning out that way."

"It's a bit late for that Coach." he replied, trying to keep any bitterness out of his voice.

"It's never too late Tom."

"That's where you're wrong Captain. There are plenty of kids out there for who it's too late. Mostly because of us."

"They got themselves into that mess Hanson. It's never fully down to you."

"Now I don't believe you." Tom said with the ghost of a sad smile playing on his lips.

"I wouldn't lie to you Tom." Fuller said softly.

"It wouldn't matter. My whole life's turned out to be one big lie."

"You really believe that?"

"That's what we do isn't it? Lie. One after another."

"No it's not."

"So what do we do?"

"We help people Tom. We make things just a little better out there."

"And just how have we made it better? It doesn't matter how many dealers, thieves, or murderers we bust there's always gonna be more. We're wasting our time, and we're the ones who end up paying." he said, that strange sense of calm still holding. "Maybe we deserve to."

"Why?" Fuller asked gently, finally feeling like he was breaking down some walls.

"Because we're no better than the ones we're out there to stop."

"Hey, you are nothing like them." the older man said sternly.

"Aren't we? Think about Captain. How do you think we're able to go out there everyday and get these kids to trust us. Because we are them. It's all up here." he said tapping a finger to his forehead. "We think like them, we know how they tick, because there's something inside us, some darkness, evil or whatever it is, that is exactly the same as what's inside them. Turn a different corner we could have even been them."

"Yes, but you chose not to be, and it's those choices that make you different. It's our choices and what we learn from making the wrong ones that make us who we are."

"I've made some really bad choices Coach."

"So have a hell of a lot of others."

"But my bad decisions have cost people their lives."

"You don't think I worry when I send any of you guys into dangerous situations. That I'm not scared to death that one time you may not come back." he said studying the young mans face, which remained blank and totally passive. "You think there isn't a day goes by when I don't regret sending Darry into Piedmont?"

"Maybe." Tom said shrugging uncomfortably as he jammed his hands into his pockets. "Is that all Captain Fuller? Because I have a mountain of paperwork to catch up on that you'll probably be screaming for pretty soon." Fuller let out an extremely heavy sigh.

"I didn't want to do this Hanson, but you're not making this easy."

"What?" Tom asked nervously.

"Show me your arm." the older man said dully.

"What for?"

"Just do it Tom." he said sadly, his advice to Doug about not making Tom feel like they we're ganging up on him ringing tauntingly in his ears.

"No." came the shaky reply as the young officer slowly backed away, images of cruel sneering faces advancing towards him flashed before his eyes, calling out their taunting threats. Fuller waked round the desk cutting of Hanson's retreat before reaching out and grabbing hold of the younger man's left arm and pulling the sleeve up. He looked down in confusion when he saw there was not even a scratch.

"Happy now?" Tom asked sounding bored. Fuller looked hard at the 'kid' stood before him for what seemed like hours as Hanson threw desperate glances towards the door. If Fuller saw what he'd done he'd send for the white coats in a heartbeat. They'd lock him up again. He couldn't let that happen.

"_Maybe that's what's best. For you and them."_

His attention was snapped back when he felt Fullers hand tugging at his other sleeve. Before he could pull away they were both staring down at the newly healed cuts on his forearm and the white bandage that circled his wrist.

"It's not as bad as you think." he stammered quietly.

"You have no idea what I'm thinking Hanson." Fuller replied, suddenly feeling like he was a hundred years old. "Why would you do this to yourself?"

"_Go on tell him. I was trying to drain all the poison out of my veins Captain, it was no big deal. He'll have you in a straight jacket before you can blink."_

"It all got too much for me ok. I had to let something out or I was going to explode." he said gradually moving out of his captain's grasp.

"This isn't the answer Tom. I know you've had a lot to deal with but…"

"A lot to deal with" he laughed. "Coach, in the past 9 years I've had my dad murdered, my girlfriend killed right before my eyes, had the deaths of at least three kids on my conscience, been stuck in a war zone, tortured by solders for trying to help my best friend. Am I forgetting anything? Oh yeah, I was framed for murder and sent to jail where I had was beaten and humiliated while my so called friends left me to rot."

"You know that's not true." Fuller said looking into Toms dark eyes, his earnestness causing the younger man to look away. "How many times have you done this?" he asked softly.

"Only once" Tom lied. "I wasn't really gonna do it you know." He said quietly. "I wouldn't. I just decided it was all too much."

"What changed your mind?"

"Nothings ever that bad." he shrugged, reminding Fuller of the Tom Hanson he knew.

"Tom, I mean it, if you want off this case or you need any help at all…."

"I'm ok. Nothing like this will happen again. Is that all? Can I go now?"

"That's all" Fuller said throwing his hands in the air through sheer frustration, praying to God that Hanson meant what he said, and in a strange way he believed him. Maybe because it just wasn't something he thought Hanson would ever do.

"There will be officers there to back you up Tom, I promise." he said in a tone Tom was sure was meant to be reassuring.

_"He did such a good job of looking after you last time didn't he? Sending you into the middle of a gang war alone. You know really all this is down to him, and now he wants you believe he cares? Who the hell is he kidding?""._

Suddenly it was like a bolt of lightening hit him. How could he have ever considered any of this being Harry's fault, his fault or anyone else's. The man stood before him was the one who sent him out there, the one who put him in these positions. The blood on his hands was because of him. And now here he was, acting like he gave a damn what happened to him. After everything he had made him do, without so much as a second thought what it would do to him, he had the audacity to stand there and ask him to pour his heart out.

"I know. Don't worry coach, really." he said coldly.

"That's the problem, I do."

"You shouldn't. It gives you terrible wrinkles." he said, half a smile on his face.

"Tom..."

_"Oh, here we go again."_

"I know where you are coach."

"Good. Remember that." he said. "And Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"You never asked about Daniel English."

"Who?"

"The kid you decided to give your guns to."

"What about him?"

"Don't you want to know what happened?"

"Not really Coach." he said dully before leaving the room.

As soon as he had closed the door behind him, he was accosted by a very anxious looking Harry Ioki. He was getting so sick of seeing that look on people's faces. So, before Harry could even say a word Tom skirted past him, patting his shoulder and calling out a cheerful "Later Iokage. I've got stuff to do." before darting away on search of refuge.

Hanson made his way up to the locker room trying to find somewhere where he could be alone and just listen to the quiet. Somewhere where he wasn't going to be confronted with pitying looks and well meaning meddlers. He rested his aching head against his locker and closed his eyes trying his best to think of nothing at all. He was listening to the rhythm of his breathing when he felt another presence in the room behind him. "Here we go again" he thought to himself.

"Hanson?" Sometimes he wished he could shoot everyone who knew his name. Letting out a sigh he opened his eyes and turned around slowly to see Judy looking back at him. "What are you doing up here?"

"Nothing. Just wanted a moment's peace."

"This case is pretty hard for you isn't it?"

"It's just a case." he said lightly. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Yeah. I want to know what we're doing here Hanson?"

"I gotta get back to work." he stammered. As he tried to make his way to the stairs he found her blocking his way, her eyes dark and grim with determination.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"You kissed me." she said matter of factly.

"Yeah, I did." he replied lightly. "I thought you wanted me too?"

"I did. I just don't know why you did it. You've not exactly been too openly fond of me lately Hanson."

"I didn't know what else to do. Every time I try to talk to you I end up making things worse."

"And why do you think that is?"

"I don't know." he shrugged, desperate to get away before the slim grip he had gained over himself suddenly slipped out of his hands. "The other night, what I said, I didn't mean it."

"I never thought you did."

"Why are you so sure of me?" he asked eying her intently.

"I have to be. Because I care about you." she said taking his hand. It was then he realised why he had focused so much of his anger on this girl. She was so sure of him, had so much faith in him, and was so sure she knew him inside and out. He even believed she might actually love him. That was the problem. He couldn't understand how she could see so much goodness in him when all he saw was a twisted, bitter mess who infected everything and anyone he came into contact with. But at that moment he hadn't felt angry. All he'd felt was how much this girl meant to him and that he couldn't bare for her to see him any other way.

"And this is still what you want?" he asked looking at their entwined fingers.

"You know it is. Hanson it's all I've wanted for years. When we agreed to just go back to being friends that summer I lied. I never wanted that. I tried to tell you so many times, but just didn't seem to want to listen" she said gently gazing up into his face.

"I'm so Judy. For everything."

"You don't have to be sorry. Just be honest with me please. Is this what you want?"

His eyes shot up to meet hers and for a moment he just stared at her, making her nervous. It was what he wanted, more than anything, but he had no right to mess this girls life around the way he had so many others. He wanted to tell her everything, wanted her to hold him and tell him that things were going to be ok, that she could make him well again. But he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to bear her to see him any differently. So he lifted her hand to his chest and held it there where she could feel his heart beating. It was going much too fast for her liking and she almost got the feeling that for some reason he was scared.

"You feel that?" he asked gently as their eyes locked. She nodded her head, looking back at him with probing wide eyes. "I don't know what's going on, and I can't promise you much Judy. But I can promise you that whatever I might say or do, it's yours do you understand? It always was."

"Then why won't you talk to me?" she pleaded, his words giving her hope and making her own heart race. He studied her face for what seemed to her like centuries before taking a deep breath and closing the distance between them.

"Judy, look in my eyes and tell me honestly who you see." he asked while placing his hands gently on the sides of her face.

"I see you." she replied simply.

"_She's lying. She's only saying what she thinks you want to hear."_

He could tell by her face that that was true. But it didn't matter. He didn't just want to hear it, he needed to.

"And I don't want that to change." he told her smiling softly.

"I don't understand." Judy said as she continued to study the man before her. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Don't try. It doesn't matter" he smiled.

"Hanson I'm serious. I want you to talk to me. What you wrote yesterday, that's not normal you know that don't you?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked her. She couldn't help thinking he really couldn't remember. But something in her guts was screaming at her that he remembered every single detail and she couldn't let him get away with it.

"That number? When you told me what it meant, you were talking about prison weren't you?"

"Yeah. Please Judy, let it go."

"I can't when it's hurting you so much."

"Why? Do you think you can stop it?" he asked quietly.

"No. But you were always there for me when I needed you, now I want to be there for you."

"We'll talk later ok." he told her squeezing her hand before dodging past her and down the stairs, leaving her watching after him, feeling more confused than ever.

Moments later Doug came the stairs behind her.

"What's going on?" he asked puzzled

"What do you mean?" she asked distantly

"Hanson. When I passed him on the stairs he was smiling."

"He was?" she asked brightly.

"Like a Cheshire cat." Judy turned round to face him and stared up at him intensely.

"Don't you dare let anything happen to him out there Doug Penhall." she said her wide dark eyes gazing pleadingly up at the bear like officer.

"Hey, don't worry. We'll be fine."

"Be careful, please."


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks for reviewing folks. It's always good to hear from you all.**

"_You really think they're buying this bullshit?"_ came the mocking laughter as Hanson darted as fast as he could down the stairs, the small rein he had on whatever was going on in his head slowly slipping out of his hands.

"What?"

"_This I used to be a basket case but I'm ok now rap"_

"Yeah I do."

"_You know you're not ok don't you? They know it too."_

"Shut up!" he said cheerfully, trying in vain once again to somehow block it out.

"_If they can't see it already they soon will."_

"No they won't. I won't let them."

"_You can't stop them seeing. And what do you think you're doing making promises to that girl you know you have no way of keeping? You get off on messing with her don't you?"_

"No idea what you mean, I meant every word."

"_As if there's anything you can promise her that's worth having. You think you can make her happy, promising her a hollowed out, dried up husk?"_

"I don't have to listen to this shit, and I'm not going to."

"_That's where you're wrong. Someone has to tell you the truth."_

"Well I don't believe any of it."

"_Tsk tsk little Tommy, you're lying again."_

The next thing he knew he ran smack into the ample frame of Doug Penhall.

"Whoa, slow down!" Doug cried as he put his hands out to stop his partner sending them both flying. He looked up and flashed his partner what he believed to be his trademark thousand watt smile. But there was no trace of the usual warmth in that smile, it was cold and blank, and more indicative of some sort of mania than happiness. However, being so relived to see even the smallest hint of a smile on his partners face Doug ignored the fact that there was no trace of his best friend to be found in that grin, or how nervous and skittish he appeared.

"Hey." Tom said brightly. Then noticing the tired haggard look on his partners face, Tom looked at him with all the sincerity he could muster. "You look totally beat, are you ok?"

It had seemed like so long since anyone, including himself, had given any thought to how he was coping that Doug was completely thrown and taken aback by Hanson's sudden concern.

"Just a little tired. How about you? You doing ok." Doug said looking at him searchingly.

"Never better." he said flashing his grin again, before patting the larger man on the shoulder and pushing past him. Thinking now that Hanson seemed to have calmed down this was his best chance Doug spun round and called after him.

"I'm nearly finished here if you wanna go grab a beer or something."

"Not tonight. I think I'm just gonna go home and sleep. It's been a rough couple of days and we have that bust tomorrow."

"Well, if you're sure everything's ok…"

"I'm positive Doug." he smiled. "I'll see you." he finished as he headed away, one hand playing with the knife in his pocket.

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The rain from the previous day showed no signs of stopping or even letting up for that matter as Penhall and Hanson walked through the now dark grounds of Greenwood High School the next evening. The overgrown wet bangs plastered to his head obscured Tom's already compromised vision. Why was he even here? Doug and Fuller had both offered him a way out, and it wasn't like he actually wanted to be here. They didn't really need him, any monkey could make this bust. He could think of a thousand places he would rather be. At home with his blankets over his head always sounded good these days and he really wanted a drink. He wondered for a brief moment if he was becoming an alcoholic on top of everything else. That was just what he needed. Why in gods name was he here?

"_Can't let them think you can't cope you know. They'd all be terribly disappointed. You don't want to ruin their delusions of you do you?"_

"Already did that." he mumbled.

"What?" came Doug's voice from beside him over the noise of the wind.

"Is this where Casey said to meet them?" he replied quickly.

"Yeah. I don't see them though." Doug replied squinting into the rain. "Where's that back up Fuller promised?"

"There's a couple of units waiting round the corner." Tom said as he pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. "Fuller said to signal them as soon as they hand over the guns." Peering into the darkness, he suddenly saw two headlights come shining out of the empty black night piercing the young officer's eyes.

"We're on." He said wearily while shielding his eyes from the glare, suddenly feeling extremely tired and hoping this wouldn't take too long. Both men glanced quickly around the parking lot as the car drew nearer. It pulled up beside them and a very nervous looking Casey Moore rolled down the passenger side window and peered out at them.

"Get in." he said, his voice noticeably shaking.

"Where are we going?" Doug asked, his eyes quickly scanning the area for any sign of their back up. Tom yawned and his eyes lazily swept the inside of the vehicle. Apart from Casey there was only the driver. A large dark haired unshaven man who Hanson vaguely recalled seeing somewhere before, but he couldn't place him. Not that it mattered, he thought pushing it to the back of his mind.

"_That's right. You're an undercover cop. What does it matter if you've seen this guy before?"_

"Mr Petrelli doesn't do deals in playgrounds." The driver said looking at the two young men with distain.

"Has no problem with using the people who hang around in them though does he?" Tom said, his blank gaze seeming to look through them. Doug discreetly prodded him in the ribs with his elbow bringing Tom's empty stare around to rest on him.

"You'll have to excuse my brother" the larger officer said, "He gets cranky when he misses his nap."

"Looks young enough to still be having them too." the driver smirked.

"Can we just get this over with?" Hanson snapped impatiently.

"Yeah." he replied turning stony eyes on the squirming boy sat in the seat beside him. "Get in"

Doug threw a nervous glance at Hanson. This hadn't been part of the plan. What if their back up didn't notice what was going on? But Tom just shrugged and climbed into the car. As they pulled away the driver turned out the headlights leaving them practically invisible to the waiting squad cars outside the school campus.

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The men sat in the black and white squad car peered nervously into the blackness as the rain pelted down on the roof of the vehicle. It was raining so heavily now that the rain sounded like they were being pelted by stealth bombers. The police officer in the passenger seat regularly turned round to exchange bemused glances with the five other men in the car behind them. They had been watching the scene for the past half hour, primed and ready watching for the uncover officers signal to move in, but since seeing the black beamer pull up fifteen minutes ago there was no sign that there was anyone else around.

"Do you see anything?" Officer Rich Stanford asked his partner, he was beginning to get fidgety and nervous.

"I can't see anything through this rain past the end of my nose." Officer Sam Jackson replied switching the windshield wipers on to full speed in attempt to somehow clear his view.

"I'm sure I saw something move over there." he said squinting into the rain.

"There's nothing moving out there but water. How long does it take to hand over a couple of guns?"

"Maybe they decided they didn't need us and went ahead solo." Stanford shrugged.

"Nah, Fuller told them to wait for us before blowing their cover."

"Never worked with these guys before have you?" Stanford said in amusement.

"No, why?"

"Let's just say they're not exactly professionals."

"I don't like this. You couldn't see anything from in here even if there was something going down. I'm going to scout around for a while."

"In this rain? Rather you than me pal."

"That's right, you stay in here all nice and cosy, and I'll go to work."

"Sounds good to me."

"Don't fall asleep while I'm gone." Jackson said looking at his partner in disgust before disappearing into the darkness.

Shortly afterwards Stanford had actually drifted off into a doze when he was startled as his partner pulled the door open in a frantic panic.

"They've gone." he said in disbelief.

"What do you mean they've gone? We haven't seen anyone leave. There's no way they could have got by here without being seen."

"I've been round the outside of the building three times. There's no one out here and there's no sign of that beamer that pulled up. The only sign anyone was here is that Hanson's mustang."

"Shit! Didn't I say I saw something move? Dammit! They must have turned the headlights out."

"Great. I knew something wasn't right."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. A black car in this stuff would've been real hard to make out. Especially with no headlights. We'd better call Fuller."

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"Where are we going?" Doug asked again as he glanced frantically around the car, looking for any sign of their back up, or any indication that his partner was still with him. Hanson hadn't spoken or taken his eyes from the spot on the window for the past twenty minutes.

"It's not much further" the driver snapped.

"We must be miles out of the city by now"

"What's your point?"

"Just seems to me we could have done this back there."

"We had to be sure no one was watching." Casey said turning to face the men in the back, for which he earned a sharp clip round the head from the man beside him.

"So this guy Petrelli? What does he want for the hardware?" Doug asked.

"You'll find out in good time."

Doug glanced uneasily over at Hanson, who was still sat unmoving and silent. His vacant eyes tracing the path of the raindrops as they slid down the glass. He felt slightly sorry for those raindrops. Their path was marked, set in stone, from which they had no means of turning away, slipping steadily and meaninglessly off the smooth surface, the way the years of his life seemed to slip away as he simply drifted through them. He could feel Doug's presence beside him, the larger man's unease was like a dripping tap drumming through his brain and he found himself wishing more than anything in the world that he was alone right now.

"Your brother's quite the chatterbox." the driver said, his voice snide and sneering.

"He doesn't have much to say." Doug replied. Tom heard their voices cutting through his isolation and brought his eyes around to focus on his partner. As they did, something in those eyes made Doug visibly shudder.

"_There you are. He can see it. I told you they would. You can't run from it Tommy."_

"Strong silent type is he?" the man in the front seat said cutting the voice dead.

"Something like that" Doug replied before the sound of his partners soft voice brought his head snapping round.

"I'm an enigma" Tom said, his voice coming out distant, monotonous and flat. As the driver looked in his rear view mirror, focused on the source of this voice, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" he asked the smaller man.

"No" Tom replied flatly before slowly turning his attention back to the window, gazing out but not really seeing anything other than the blackness that seemed to surround everything.

"No I've definitely seen you somewhere before."

"He must have one of those faces" Doug said, trying to sound unconcerned. "We just moved into town."

With another suspicious glance in his mirror he turned his full attention back on the road.

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Judy had turned away from her vigil at her living room window, for the sake of her sanity if nothing else, and now sat restlessly by Clavo's bed holding the little boys hand. She had just got him to go back to sleep since waking up the second time that night, crying that Doug wasn't going to come back. And now after rocking him and reassuring him that everything was going to be ok, he was sleeping soundly, his little fingers gripping her hand. She was gently stroking his hair and trying not to think about Tom and Doug when she heard the shrill ringing of the telephone from the other room.

As quickly as she could she gently released Clavo's hold and dashed into the living room, grabbing the phone and screwing it to her ear.

"Hanson?" she asked desperately.

"Sorry Judy. It's just me." came the heavily accented voice from the other end of the phone.

"Harry. Any news."

"No. Still pretty much the same. How's things your end."

"Not so good. I don't know what else I can tell the poor kid. He's so scared."

"What's he doing now, sleeping?"

"Yeah, only just."

"Well, tell him Doug sends his love ok."

"Oh god Harry" she sobbed, "I don't know what to do."

"Jude it's going to be ok."

"I'm not so sure anymore."

"Hey, I know things don't look good right now, but they're both tough. They've got through worse."

"That's just it Harry I don't think they have."

"Look, do you want me to come over?"

"No Harry, I'll be ok."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Besides you promised you'd stay with Doug."

"If you need anything…."

"I know where you are."

"And I guess I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

After another futile attempt to try and reassure her, Harry hung up and returned to his own maddening vigil. Judy replaced the receiver and stared at the phone, marvelling at how something that seemed so small and insignificant could bring everything crashing down around you.

She had been sat at her desk sorting through files, but not being able to concentrate, playing what she could remember of every conversation she had had with Hanson over the last few months. Trying desperately to figure out what could be going on in his head. When the phone rang she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Someone going to get that?" she called. As no one made a move to answer it she reached over and picked up the receiver.

"Judy Hoffs." she said irritably.

"Hoffs, its Jackson. I don't know how it happened but we lost them."

"What?"

"Penhall and Hanson. They just disappeared."

"Tell me you're joking!" she panicked.

"No. It's like they just vanished right in front of our eyes. We didn't see anyone leave."

"Where are you?"

"Still outside Greenwood. We've checked around but we can't find any sign of them."

"How long has it been since you saw them go in?"

"About 30 minutes ago. We saw a black beamer pull in a little while after but we never saw it leave."

"What about Hanson's car?"

"It's still here."

"Did you get the licence plate of the other car?"

"Yeah, 752 TMC."

"Ok, we'll get a trace on it." Judy said frantically scribbling down the number. "Sit tight. Any sign of them and you call us." She ordered before slamming the phone down and running for Fullers office.

Fuller's head shot up, startled as the young woman burst through his door.

"Captain, we've got a problem."

"What's going on Hoffs?"

"Jackson and Stanford lost Hanson and Penhall."

"They lost them?"

"Jackson said they saw a beamer pull in just after they left Hanson and Penhall. Now it's gone and so have they. Hanson's car's still there so they must all be in the same one. They got the licence number when they saw it come in but they have no idea where it went."

Fuller jumped up from his desk grabbed the phone. "You grab Harry put an APB on that car and find out everything you possibly can about Anthony Petrelli."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find my other officers."

"Captain, if you're going after them I'm coming with you."

"Hoffs we need someone here in case they call, and we need people to gather any lead we can."

"There's a building full of people to do that Captain, please."

"In that case I'm coming too." Harry said entering the office behind Hoffs.

"OK" Fuller said obviously outnumbered. "Get Garret to put out an APB and pull whatever he can find on Petrelli. We'd better move fast."

"Any ideas where we can start?"

"I got a few. What are you waiting for? Move it" he said as he dialled the phone. "Briody, its Fuller. I need a favour…… You worked on the Petrelli case right?...Yeah, I have a problem and need all the info you got."

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Tom slowly pulled himself from his reverie as he noticed the car had come to a halt. Sleepily gazing around he noticed they were outside what appeared to be an old four storey office building. By the look of it they were the first people to do business here in a long time. Even in the dark with the rain making it difficult to see you could tell the windows were thick with dirt and those that weren't were boarded over and there were skips filled with broken timber lined up alongside the walls. Usually he supposed this would have made him nervous. Here they were, no idea where here was, alone and soon to be in the company of a suspected mob boss and his lackeys. But all he felt was that he desperately wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.

"Get out." the driver, who on a regular day was Officer Derek Marley, the uncle of the boy Penhall and Hanson had prevented from shooting a kid in the middle of Greenwood High's cafeteria. He had also been very active in the Piedmont area around the time Hanson had been tailing Ronnie Seebok.

Tom and Doug climbed out of the car and followed Marley and a very uneasy Casey over to a small group gathered a short distance away.

Four of the men gathered there were holding rather ominous looking weapons and judging by the fact that Doug instantly recognised the figure of James Mathews, he guessed that the others must be the other conscientious law enforcers roped into Petrelli's little game. In the centre of this gathering was a tall heavily built man stood under a large umbrella, his sandy hair was cropped and his face totally clean shaven. If they hadn't known better the young officers could have sworn that this man in his smart expensive looking suit was involved in nothing more dangerous than advertising.

"Well, well little Casey" came the man's well spoken clear voice as they approached. "What have you brought me this time? They just keep getting younger"

"This is Doug and Tommy McQuaid, the guys I was telling you about."

"The shooter?" Petrelli asked with raised eyebrows. "Let's hope they're a little more careful than your other little friends. So, you're Casey's body guards?"

"We prefer to think of ourselves as concerned citizens." Doug said with a smile.

"I've heard quite a bit about you." Petrelli said with a wry smile looking the 'brothers' up and down in amusement.

"Douggie, we're famous!" Tom said in mock surprise, turning and grabbing hold of the larger mans jacket. "So what is our public saying?"

"That you're a killer Mr McQuaid. A guy like you could come in handy."

"Well if I were you I wouldn't believe everything I hear. Stories have a way of becoming exaggerated."

"Really?" Pettrelli smirked at the young officer.

"You know I've heard a bit about you too."

"And what might that be?"

"That you don't exist. Now, should I believe that or is this some sort of elaborate hallucination?"

"I assure you I exist."

"That's good to know. For a second there I thought I might be going crazy." Tom said, smiling crookedly at his own bad joke.

"Well I'm glad I can put your mind at rest. Now, it's cold out here so why don't we get down to business."

"As you can probably tell we don't got a lot of money." Doug said with a smirk.

"Yeah, and you can also probably tell that he eats whatever we do have." Tom said grinning and gesturing towards his partner, earning him a look that could have killed from Doug.

"I'm not in the business of charging people what they can't afford."

"So what exactly is the deal here?" Hanson asked

"Have you ever heard of a man named Marcus Donahue?"

"No."

"Well, he and I are what you might call rivals. He has a large shipment of heroin arriving in a couple of days. I want what's in those crates. You are going to join my little team here and deliver it for me. In exchange for that I let you keep the guns."

"Why exactly do you need us?"

"Why would I risk everything when I can have people do it for me?" the man said with mocking innocence.

"And what's in it for these guys."

"Let's just say they owe me. Plus, they get a cut of the profits, and as long as no one pays any undue attention to me no harm comes to their little darlings."

"Blackmail. Now that's original."

"You've got a smart mouth on you haven't you young man?"

"Me and a lot of others."

"Casey, you've finally found someone with a spine, well done. Don't worry Mr McQuaid, the only smart mouth you have to worry about is your own. It's the only one that's going to land you in trouble."

"Me and trouble have become pretty tight over the years."

"Is that so? Well as long as you don't make trouble for me you have no need for concern."

Tom looked back in amusement, flipping his wet hair away from his face. As he did so the man that had delivered them here glared at him in sudden recognition and amazement.

"I knew I'd seen you somewhere before. You're that guy who shot Bud Tower."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hanson said turning a bored gaze on the man.

"Yeah you do. They were talking about it downtown for months."

"He's never shot anyone in his life." Doug said laughing nervously. "You really shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"No man, I know it was you. This guys a cop." he said turning to Pettrelli.

"Is this true?" he asked turning to the two scruffy young men before him.

"As if we look like cops?" Tom laughed.

"No it's true. His names no more McQuaid than mines Kermit the Frog." Marley chuckled

"You're Kermit!" Tom said doing his best excited toddler act. "Can I have you're autograph?"

"Tommy, what are you doing?" Doug said out of the corner of his mouth, feeling nervous and uncomfortable, not sure what game Hanson was playing.

"So, you Miss Piggy?" Hanson said to the silent figure of Officer Dean Bradwell, the blond, pink faced and slightly round figure stood beside Marley.

"That mouth of yours is definitely going to get you into trouble." Bradwell seethed.

"His name's Anderson, or Manson or something like that." Marley said looking at Hanson as if he'd just won the lottery.

"Hanson? Yeah I heard about that." Bradwell purred.

"That's it." Marley yelped.

"You're Tom Hanson's kid?" a guy, who Penhall recognised as being, Casey Moore's stepfather, said as he stepped forward sending Doug's mind into confusion overdrive as he chanced a nervous glance towards his friend.

"Never heard the name in my life." Tom said blankly. He'd come to the conclusion that 'Tom Hanson's kid' hadn't really existed since the moment the doctor came to tell that kid and his mother that he was very sorry but he'd done all he could.

"How about that. We've got a damn hero cops kid!" Marley beamed

"Look, I'm sure we've all got better things to be doing with our time, so can we just get on with this?" Doug said, a note of panic in his voice. They had been sprung and they knew it. He supposed it was a surprise it had taken someone this long to recognise who his partner was. However, no one seemed to be hearing him as Pettrelli advanced on Hanson.

"Is this true boy? Are you a cop killer?"

"What did you call me?" Hanson replied, a dangerous edge to his voice as he looked unflinchingly into the cold calm eyes of the man in front of him.

"A cop who killed one of his fellow officers. Well, well." Tom smiled coldly back before pulling his gun out and forcing under the taller mans chin.

"Let's get one thing straight." he said between gritted teeth, despite the obvious difference in height and bulk Hanson suddenly seemed the more dangerous of the two. But then how do you frighten someone who feels he has nothing left to lose? "I was cleared of all charges. I am not a killer. Yet. Keep pushing me and we may find out otherwise. Now," he continued flashing his most charming smile. "I have better places to be and I'm getting kinda bored of this so lets just say you're all under arrest." He said pulling his badge out of his pocket with his free hand.

"Oh I beg to differ." Pettrelli said matching Hanson's winning smile. "Kill em." he said turning to look over his shoulder and the next thing Penhall and Hanson heard was the sound of five weapons being drawn as everyone of them was pointed squarely in their direction. Doug grabbed hold of Hanson's arm and was holding it so tight he was almost cutting of the circulation.

"Come on guy's" Tom said laughing nervously. "Can't you take a joke?"

"My sense of humour seems to be out of order today." Pettrelli drawled. "Well, what are you all waiting for? Shoot them!" he yelled staring into the young officer's still and defiant face.

Doug quickly dragged Tom to the floor as the triggers clicked and the bullets began to fly over their heads. Scampering behind the now empty car the two young officers drew their own weapons.

"What happened to our back up?" Tom asked his eyes frantically scanning the area for any sign of flashing lights as bullets pelted the car and blew out the headlights sending them all into darkness.

"_They've gone. Left you to rot like they all do."_

"Not now." He whispered desperately rubbing at his temples with his free hand. "Please not now."

"They turned out the lights. I guess they didn't see us leave." came Doug's voice from over his shoulder.

"We're on our own?" Tom yelped spinning round briefly to throw a panicked glance at his friend.

"Looks that why _partner_" Doug snapped "What the hell were you doing?"

"My job!" Tom said as he peered around the car looking for a way out.

"_You're not going to do anything stupid are you? You're not the only one in the car now!"_

"It's not your job to wind up mob bosses. And for your information I have actually lost weight recently." he heard Doug say through the fog in his head.

"Doug this is not the time. In case you haven't noticed we're in a bit of bind here."

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

Tom glared at Doug from his position on the wet tarmac, and was about to retaliate when a bullet came flying through the window above him, sending shattered glass raining down on them, scraping against their skin and catching in their hair.

"This isn't gonna keep us covered for long." he told his partner as he spun and fired a shot through the now empty window.

"You got any better ideas that won't get us shot in the process?". Tom's dark eyes quickly scanned the area and his keen police trained eyes spotted the broken lock on the old building amused to find that nothing focused your mind like life threatening situations. "There." he said pointing it out to Penhall. "If we can make it across, judging by the size of it we can get lost in there pretty easy."

"And how do you suggest we get across there without making Swiss cheese jealous?"

"Run." Tom said simply. "Really fast." he added smiling impishly at his friend's outraged expression. "Come on Doug, live a little."

"You're insane."

"That's what they tell me. You coming or not?"

"Well, I guess it beats squatting here like a sitting duck."

"That's my boy!" Tom said with a grin. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Doug sighed. Hoping that the dark and the adverse whether conditions would work to their advantage both men jumped to their feet and ran as fast as their legs could carry them, through the rain and barrage of bullets. The wind and rain were stinging their eyes but as they did a great deal to impair the men's aims they were grateful for it as the bullets missed them by mere inches. When they were in sight of the entrance to the building Doug heard Hanson cry out and saw him stumble to the floor. At the sound of the young officer's cry the gunfire ceased and everything suddenly went as silent as the grave. After all these years of looking after his best friend Doug's instinct to protect Tom was pretty much automatic by now and he raced over to where he was slowly getting to his knees.

Tom knelt on the tarmac, the pain in his arm burning and more excruciating than anything he'd felt in life. So that was what automatic bullets felt like. His arm felt like it had been blown clean away despite the fact that his dark eyes were focused on every detail of the hole in his arm from which he could see his blood flowing freely.

"_You can't get it out that easy buddy."_ He screwed his eyes up tightly and was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His eyes shot open and met those of Doug Penhall looking back at him.

"Are you hit?" he asked quietly while putting his arm around the smaller man's waist.

"Yeah." Tom replied as Doug pulled him to his feet while the voices of their welcoming party echoed around them, trying to find them in the darkness away from the cars now broken headlights.

"Where?" he asked looking him over.

"It doesn't matter I can walk. There's no time for this Doug, just go." he snapped under his breath as Doug began fussing over him. Under the cover of the darkness the young officers edged their way quietly nearer to the building, Doug noticing that Hanson was moving significantly slower and more carefully than usual. They could hear the voices of the others as they began to carry over the wind.

"Did we get them?" came a voice they recognised as being the one belonging to the man who had brought them there.

"I thought I heard someone yelling."

"Go and make sure they're not going to get out of here in one piece." Came the voice that could only belong to Anthony Petrelli.

They could hear footsteps moving cautiously over the puddle strewn ground towards them. Tom looked over at Doug, his left arm hanging awkwardly numb by his side, and gestured silently to him to keep going towards the building. They were almost there when Hanson, paying more attention to what was behind him that in front of him, lost his footing and tripped over a plank of wood propped against a nearby skip sending it and him tumbling to the floor, the resulting crash echoing above the wind.

"Oh shit!" he said dully looking at Doug with a guilty expression.

"There they are!" came a cry from behind them as the gunfire started up again. The two officers dived behind the skip and hit the ground panting heavily, Tom clutching his arm with a strange grin on his face.

"They got me" he said laughing. "Look" he said holding his hand out for Doug to see. "I'm bleeding.". Doug threw a concerned glance towards his partner, wondering why this should make him so happy. Then he slowly peered round the side of the skip, assessing the distance from the skip to the door before turning his attention back to Hanson, wondering which situation to deal with first. He gritted his teeth and edged closer to Tom.

"Look, we've gotta get out from here. We'll be a much harder target inside and we've gotta get you out of this rain and check that out." he said nodding towards his friends injured arm.

"Whatever you say." Tom replied dismissively as he allowed Doug to once again pull him to his feet. They edged closer to the end of the skip, Hanson leaning heavily on his larger friend as they went. Doug peered round the corner trying to see any sign of their attackers through the heavy rain that was still pelting down on them. When he was as sure as he could be that the coast, for the moment, was clear he turned back to face Tom.

"You up to taking part in a hundred metre sprint?" he asked with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the tension that was beginning to build up inside him.

"Not even a challenge." Tom grinned back. "Now if you wanted me to walk on my hands that would be a little more difficult."

"Maybe later." Doug smirked. "Ok. On three. One, two…"

"Hey Doug, is that on three or after three."

"What?"

"Well do we go 1,2,3 then go or go as you say three?"

"Does it matter?"

"Fuck it!" Tom shrugged and ran top speed out from the cover of the skip. He was half way there when he heard a voice call out.

"Hey I see one."

He stopped and turned smiling nervously in the direction of that voice. Moments later bright torchlight shone in his eyes and he threw himself to the ground as once again they let fly. He lay on the ground, his uninjured arm covering his head wondering when the hell these guys were going to run out of bullets. He only had to wait a few moments before silence descended once again.

"_You really do have some of death wish don't you?"_

"Shut up." he said through his gritted teeth. "What do I have to do to make you stop?"

"_You want it all to stop?"_

"Yes. But it's not going to is it? It's never going to end."

"_The only way it's going to end is for you to end it."_

"Oh yeah, and how do you suggest I do that?"

"_The answers right out there sport."_

Laughing manically he struggled to his feet realising he was now standing in front of the door he spotted as they crouched behind the car. He could hear Doug calling to him through the rain but his voice seemed far away and unimportant, all that mattered was that he could see a way out. Turning to face the direction he was pretty sure his assailants were standing and threw his arms out wide, oblivious to the searing pain it sent through his injured arm and shouted into the darkness.

"Come on then? What are you waiting for? You fuckers couldn't even hit the broad side of a barn!"

Just as the guns began to fire again he felt all the air knocked out of his lungs as the full weight of Doug Penhall crashed into him forcing him through the door and onto the dusty floor on the other side, before slamming the door shut behind them.

**OK, I appologise to the Lethal Weapon writers for shamelessly stealing their joke but I have to amuse myself somehow ;0p. Bye for now all!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Andaere - I'm really glad you're enjoying this. I am planning on carrying on for a couple of chapters afterwards but i was going to leave the healing stuff for a sort of sequel depending on how this one goes. Thanks for reviewing xx**

**And as always thanks and hugs to Library Tech and Ghostwriter xx**

As they flew through the door landing hard on the unforgiving concrete floor Doug tried to free himself from the tangle they had landed in, desperate to secure the door. He was just getting to his feet when he felt something heavy hit him from behind. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back staring up into the wild angry eyes of his partner, although at that moment it was more like looking into the eyes of a complete stranger. He knew Hanson had a temper, he had seen him lose it countless times over the years, but he had never before seen those dark eyes burn with so much hatred.

"What do you think you were doing?" Tom said coldly, still looking at Doug with those eyes that seemed so alien.

"Saving your ass again." Doug replied, trying to sound more angry than worried as Hanson dragged him to his feet

"Did I ask you to?" Doug stared back blankly unable to get his words out. "Didn't think so." Hanson said before sending his fist flying into Penhall guts causing the larger officer to double over, panting for breath as he watched his partner make his shaky way towards the door. Just when he was reaching to pull it open Doug's hand grabbed his arm to pull him back. The next thing Doug knew he was grabbed by a tremendous force and he found himself thrown against the wall with all the air knocked out of him, his best friend stood before him with his uninjured arm pinning him against the brick and the other hand holding a knife to his neck. Doug looked back in horror as his friends usually calm soft voice came screaming out.

"Don't ever touch me again!"

"Ok." he said nervously holding his hands up in a defensive gesture his eyes nervously studying Hanson's face.

"Don't you dare look at me like that" he spat. "I'm not some sideshow for you to gawp at."

"I never thought you were."

"I've had enough lies." Tom screamed in Doug's face. "You all look at me like that. I've seen you. And I know what you're thinking. Poor little jailbird Tommy, I wonder what happened to him in there. I wonder if he got what he deserved. I wonder if he liked it. What do you think Penhall?"

"I don't know."

"I fucking hated it! Do you have any idea what's it's like to be surrounded by 20 guys twice your size? To be forced into showers with the very people who leered at you day after day? To feel their eyes moving over you imagining what it would be like to carry out their threats? Do you?" he yelled as he moved the knife closer to Penhall's skin.

"No." he replied swallowing nervously as his eyes darted from the man stood before him to the door that was the only thing between them and being drilled full of holes.

"No, you can't. And then to have one of those guys corner you and force his tongue down you're throat and put his hands on you. And because you're too weak the only way you can stop it going any further is by screaming and crying so loud that the wardens drag you away and stick you in solitary." he continued, his voice beginning to shake. "You're in for a real treat then, because then all you got for company are the voices in your head and the realisation that that is the only real affection you're ever going to have because the ones you thought loved you have given up on you and left you in that hole. You can't even begin to imagine what it's like living with that day after day, knowing that it was your own fault, that you deserved to be there. Knowing that your suffering was nowhere near to the suffering you caused to others. Knowing that if you could just find a way to end it all the pain and misery would be over."

"Tom, I'm so sorry." he said softly, shock, sickness and pity knawing at his insides. His fear being pushed away by the overwhelming desire to pull his friend into his arms and protect him from what was causing him so much pain.

"And when I finally find that way out, what do you do?" Tom continued as if he hadn't heard him.

"I stopped you from getting yourself killed." Doug said his own voice wavering.

"You stupid son of a bitch! Why did you do that? It could have been over, quick and easy. Why do you want me suffer Doug? You're supposed to be my best friend."

"I am your best friend Tom." Doug said slowly, trying to keep his voice calm and level, all the while trying to get his head round the fact that the person he trusted more than anyone else in the world was holding a knife to his throat. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he'd be frightened of Tom Hanson.

"Bullshit! If you gave a damn about me you'd have let me end this." he said as his voice began to shake uncontrollably. "But here I am, still here. Still being eaten away from the inside out. So tell me Doug, what do I do now? Tell me how I can learn to live with this."

"There's a lot of people care about you. We can all help you if you just let us."

"Yeah? You care about me so much you just left me there. Well, you're not going to put me through this anymore, I'm not gonna let you." he said putting slight pressure on the blade. To Doug it was if someone else was using his best friend's voice and looking out from those wide scared eyes.

"It's going to be ok. Why don't you put the knife away, huh?"

"Shut up!"

"Come on, put the knife away and we'll see what we can do about that." he said gesturing to Hanson's bleeding arm.

"It doesn't matter." he seethed "Don't say another word." he finished as Doug felt more cold pressure at his throat.

"Hanson, just calm down ok. Let me go and we'll talk about this."

"Shut up!"

"I just want to talk to you."

"I told you not another word."

"Ok, no problem. If that's want you want." Doug said calmly before reaching out as quickly as a flash and twisting Hanson's injured arm, forcing the smaller man to drop the knife and forcing him face forward into the very wall he'd been pinned against moments before.

"Now you know I don't want to be doing this man, so why don't you calm down and I'll let you go." Doug pleaded. This statement was greeted by bitter laughter as Tom sank out of his grip and onto the floor. Penhall watched him, his head spinning. How had he let this get so far? And how could he wait until now of all times to let it all come out. Doug had to fight every impulse he had not to scream and shout at his partner, his anger and fear almost uncontrollable, but he got the feeling that wouldn't be the best way to deal with this. So instead he knelt down to eye level with him and calmly looked into his face just as a round of bullets was fired into the wood separating them from the outside world missing where the two men crouched by inches. Letting out a shaky breath and trying to gain his composure he turned back to his seemingly oblivious companion.

"Tom, I need help here buddy. I need you tell me what's going on."

"I don't know." he replied, to Doug's relief, in his usual soft voice, his eyes wide and lost. "Doug, what's happening to me?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's ok. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is. I should be able to stop it, but I can't." Tom said wringing his hands together and glancing wildly around the room.

"Can't stop what?" Doug asked softly all the while jumping nervously at the pounding on the door and marvelling at what great timing his partner had.

"I'm not strong enough. I never was. It was always too hard or there was too many."

"You know that's not true. You've never let anything beat you."

"Then why does everything I touch turn to dust in my hands no matter how hard I try to hold onto it?" he said staring intently at his hands as if he could see that dust running through his fingers. "I hurt everyone I love. My mom, my dad, I've let them both down so badly, and you."

"Since when did you let me down? Screwing up's my job." Doug said smiling lightly.

"Doug, I nearly killed you."

"No you didn't, not really. Look I'm here, all in one piece, for now anyway" he finished throwing a nervous glance behind him.

"All I do is cause pain."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. Look what I'm doing to Judy, Doug. I love her so much but I'm destroying her like I destroy everything else. I thought I could protect her but I'm just causing her more hurt."

"Protect her from what?"

"Me. I've hurt so many people Doug. People are dead because of me. How can I go on with that on my conscience? I've tried to numb myself but there's this part of me that won't let me forget, actually it's pretty vocal about it" he chuckled bitterly, "and they're right. It's my fault and the weight of it is crushing me. It's like this giant weight on my chest and I can't breathe anymore."

"Tom, they're dead because of the choices they made, not you."

"Tell me honestly that without me they'd still have died."

"Hanson…"

"You can't can you." he smiled sadly. "I just left them to rot, just like you all left me. What do you know there's justice after all."

"Tom, look what this is doing to you. You've gotta let it go and put it behind you."

"I can't, they won't let me."

"Who won't?"

"Them." he said rubbing his temples absently. "They're always in there and they never stop." Doug's insides twisted in knots and his mouth went dry, dreading the answer to what he was about to ask.

"Who are they?" he said doing a relatively good job of sounding calm.

"I don't know. There's so many of them Doug."

"Try and think Tommy."

"They're all gone. If they're all gone I shouldn't be hearing them should I?"

"What do you mean gone?"

"Gone. Dead. Dad, Jenko, Ronnie, Kenny, all of them."

"What are they saying?"

"Only what everyone else is thinking."

"And what's that?"

"That I deserve everything that's happened to me. And they're right, I am poison and kill everything I touch".

As Doug watched his distraught friend he remembered Harry asking him a lifetime ago if Hanson had mentioned hearing things. Harry had known about this and hadn't told him?

"Tom, have you spoken to anyone else about this?"

"No. I don't think so. But I've done a lot of things lately that I can't remember."

"How long has this been going on?"

"I don't know. I just want it stop, even if I have to cut them out it ends right now." he said reaching for the knife lying nearby on the floor.

"Hanson, stop!" Doug yelled prying the knife from his grip.

"You see Doug, I am crazy aren't I?" Tom said staring wide eyed at the weapon Doug now held.

"No you're not." he replied throwing the knife across the floor and pulling his shaking partner into his arms.

"You willing to bet your life on that?" came the smaller man's muffled reply.

"I'm sorry I said that. Everything's going to be alright I promise." he said as he wondered how the hell he could put things right. There were so many things causing Tom pain that he couldn't even begin to know which to deal with first.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Listen to me." he continued as he pulled away and placed both his hands on Tom's shoulders looking him straight in the eyes. If he was ever going to help his friend he first had to get him out of here in one piece and to do that he needed his help. "We're gonna get out of here and then we're gonna go get you some help, ok?" he said, hating the fact that he was talking to his partner as if he was a four year old.

"Help?" Hanson said eying him suspiciously. "You mean doctors?" he finished, panic in his voice.

"If that's what you need."

"No Doug. They'll lock me away. You can't let them do that to me."

"Tom..." Doug began.

"No doctors Doug. It's not that bad, really. You can help me, I don't need doctors." he said desperately. "Promise me Doug."

Doug watched him, his feeling of unease growing larger by the second. He wanted so badly to be able to help him, but he wasn't equipped to deal with this. But he needed to get him out of here, and he couldn't do it alone. So if that meant making promises he couldn't keep then so be it.

"Ok I promise. No doctors. You and me will get through this together like we've always done ok?" Hanson nodded brightly, his scared dark eyes gazing out from his tatty overgrown hair, making him seem more fragile and lost than Doug ever thought possible.

"But right now I need you with me, because that doors going to open soon and we'll be in serious trouble if we don't try and stop it." He watched nervously as Hanson sighed deeply and looked up from his shaking hands.

"I'm right here." he said dully.

Doug pulled him to his feet and his face contorted in agony, noticing the pain in his arm for the first time.

"You gonna stay with me?" Doug asked calmly.

"Can't go anywhere can I" Tom replied with a smile as if nothing had happened.

After throwing him an anxious glance Doug began to search the room for anything to wedge the door shut. It had clearly seen better days and if they wanted to get in it wasn't going to do much of a job to stop them. Wiping away the water from his face his hazel eyes fell on a row of filing cabinets lined up against the wall, seemingly waiting to be disposed of and he instantly made his way over. Getting a grip on the nearest one he began to try and pull it in front of the door but was unable to move it very far. Desperate to do something about his friends wound but knowing that they had to do something to buy them at least a little time he looked uneasily at his partner, who was stood staring at the blood on his hand where he had clutched his injured arm.

"Can you give me a hand?" he said calmly bringing Tom's now fevered gaze round to rest on him.

"As long as you only want one." he grinned walking unsteadily towards him. Getting his good arm behind the heavy object he leaned into it and pushed with all his strength and eventually three of the metal cabinets where barricading the door.

"That's not going to hold them for long." he told Doug blankly.

"It'll give us long enough." the larger man replied studying Tom as he examined the hole in his arm. "Come here." he said as he guided his friend to sit on the dust covered floor. He carefully removed Tom's tattered jacket and helped him pull his arm free of the sleeve of his shirt, wincing as he did so.

"You got lucky, it went right through." Doug said raising a slightly hysterical laugh from his friend.

"Is that what I am?" he asked.

"Most people would be thanking their lucky stars it wasn't a lot worse."

"Hallelujah I'm alive!" Tom yelled sarcastically as he waved his arms around not seeming to mind the sharp pain it sent through his upper arm.

Their attention was distracted by a voice drifting in through the door.

"Come on boys, why don't you make this easier on yourselves? We know at least one of you could do with a doctor. So why don't you come out and we can talk about a deal here." Petrelli was calling out.

"Is he kidding?" Hanson chuckled, twisting slightly to peer through the dusty window.

"Hold still will you." Doug cajoled, getting a tighter grip on his arm, his nerves wearing thinner by the second. "There's nothing left in there, but I don't have anything to clean it with."

"No problem." Tom said unconcerned as he reached into the pocket of the tattered jacket on the floor beside him. Bringing out a small metal flask he handed it to Doug with a smile. "Here you go. Use sparingly, we might be here a while."

Doug glared at his partner, his anger and disappointment mixed with a strange sense of relief as he snatched the flask from Tom's hand, before reminding himself he needed to take the softly softly approach right now.

"Have you had this with you the whole time?" Doug asked as he screwed the top off and smelled the liquid inside.

"Never leave home without it."

"You're bringing whiskey with you on a bust? Is there something wrong with you Hanson?" he snapped unable to control his worries.

"Isn't that obvious" Tom asked looking back with stony eyes while twirling his finger round his ear before bursting into hysterics again. Doug skewed his eyes away uncomfortably and turned his attention to the hole in Hanson's arm, slightly ashamed to find that after pushing his partner for so long to tell him what was going on in his head, now it had finally started to come out he had no stomach for it. So instead of pushing any further he gripped Tom's arm tightly and poured the alcohol over the wound causing the flowing blood to bubble and his friend to yell out in pain and annoyance.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" he snapped glaring at his partner in disgust before snatching the whiskey back and taking a large swig. "What?" he said as his noticed Doug's disapproving gaze. "It's for medicinal purposes."

"Oh yeah? And what illness does that cure?"

"It hurts!" Tom replied gesturing towards his bloody left arm.

"It'll hurt even more of it gets infected." Doug reasoned as he pried the whiskey from Hanson's hand and resumed cleaning the wound.

"So let it." came the dull distant reply. Doug threw a wary glance at the smaller man and continued doggedly with his task. Once all the pieces of shredded material from Hanson's clothes had been picked clear of the wound and the clotted blood was rinsed away, it didn't look as bad as it had first appeared. He had been afraid the bullet may have hit a main vein. With the injury cleaned Doug began to rack his brains for a way to somehow stem the bleeding, and his eyes lit up as they rested on the rag that Hanson had often protested so vehemently against tied around his partners dark head.

"Do you mind?" Doug asked him as he whipped it quickly from his head, sending Tom's sopping straggly hair flopping in his face. He sat there unmoving and appearing not to notice as his friend began to tightly bind the rag around the gunshot wound.

"I always seem to be patching you up these days. And to think, you complained about wearing this" Doug said attempting to sound cheerful, while all the while aware of the armed men outside and rising anxiety about the increasingly strange and distant man sat on the floor beside him.

"God bless Tommy McQuaid" Hanson said tonelessly.

Doug had just finished binding Tom's arm when they heard heavy pounding on the barricaded door. They could hear Petrelli outside screaming at the other men to do whatever it took to get through the door as inch by inch their makeshift barricade was moving across the floor. After exchanging nervous glances Doug pulled Tom to his feet trying desperately to think of a way out as bullets shattered the window to their left sending shards of broken glass and splintered wood raining down on them.

"What do we do? We can't stay here, they're almost through." Doug yelled at his partner who was staring calmly at the shaking door. "Hanson!"

"What?"

"Help me out here. Remember I need you with me" he urged, hoping to keep Hanson focused on what was happening, but not really sure what he was doing. He had never really been good at the psychology bit, that had always been Hanson's thing and right now he was glaring at him with eyes burning with anger.

"_Of course! You've been shot, you're obviously out of your mind and he still expects you to fix things."_

"What's wrong Doug, brain on strike again?"

"Come on man, this isn't the time."

"You'd think by now you'd have learned to think for yourself. Do I have to do everything?" he said using his good arm to shove Penhall along the long hallway. "There's gotta be more than one way out of here." he said as they moved as quickly as they could glancing through the numerous doors they passed along the way. All the while they could hear the banging and shouting as the others tried to burst through the door.

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"It won't budge." Marley said anxiously as Petrelli stood watching them sternly as they tried to break down the door. "They must have barricaded it with something."

"So smash it to pieces."

"I don't think that'll work, it's pretty heavy."

"So go through the windows. I'm sure even you bunch of sorry morons could smash glass."

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea." Mathews said nervously.

"What are you afraid of? It's just two guys who look barely old enough to drive."

"That's two cops in there. We can't just go in and cap 'em."

"That's just what you're going to do."

"It's Tom Hanson's son in there." Mathews replied quietly.

"What's it to you? You have some kind of thing for the kid's dad?"

"No. He helped me out when I was in a tight spot. I owe him is all."

"Well I don't and I'm not going to let all I've worked for go down the drain because you have an attack of conscience."

"So you go get 'em." he said stubbornly.

"I'm getting a little tired of this. I want you to get in there and waste them both."

"What?"

"You heard me. Your kid brought the cops you're going to get rid of them."

"No way. I'm not going to shoot Tom Hanson's kid. He was a friend, a good man, and I owed him."

"Have it your way. But someone's gotta go in there and clean this mess up. If you're not going to do it, then I'm afraid young Casey here is going to have to atone for his mistakes."

"You're not sending a helpless kid in there!"

"Then you go do it."

"No."

"You're going to put a dead man's kid before your own."

"Casey's not my kid." Mathews replied hoping that playing indifferent would turn Petrelli away from using the boy against him. He tried not to see Casey's hurt expression as he focused on the expensively dressed man in front of him.

"Then you won't mind if anything does happen to him will you?"

"But there's two of them in there" Casey stammered, "And they've both got guns."

"They've got little hand pistols and you've got state of the art fire arms. I'd say that evens it up wouldn't you?" he said as he placed a large gun in the boy's hand. Casey glanced desperately at his stepfather and the fear in those eyes was more than the man could stand.

"Ok, I'll go." he said gently prising the gun away from the teenager.

"That's more like it." Petrelli grinned. "Marley I want you to go with him. Make sure this gets done right."

"Sure thing boss."

With grim determination on their faces the two men used the butts of their weapons to break the filthy glass on the windows and quickly and quietly climbed through into the dark room on the other side. Trying the door leading out into the hallway and finding it locked, they shot out the lock and stepping into the corridor, began to quickly make their way past the numerous open doors.

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The two uncover officers were half way down the hall when they heard a massive scraping and the sound of glass shattering. Before they could turn to see what was going on they heard the all too familiar sound of guns been primed. Once again Doug grabbed hold of his partner and tried to guide him into one of the side rooms. Once Tom realised what he meant to do a sudden irrational panic rose up inside him and he turned wide pleading eyes on the larger man.

"No, Doug I can't. Don't lock me in." he said shaking his head frantically as Penhall half dragged and half pushed him into the room. Doug had just managed to get them both out of the hallway and was praying that the flimsy lock on the door would hold. He was praying even harder that they would pass this room right by if and when they managed to break through when he heard heavy gunfire that seemed to be pounding the door that, from what he could hear, appeared to have finally given way.

Tom was breathing heavily trying to still the rising panic. He was telling himself over and over again, that he wasn't locked in, he was free to go whenever he wanted. But just when he succeeded in nearly convincing himself he was forcibly reminded of the armed men outside waiting for them. Just when he began to think he couldn't stand it anymore everything suddenly went silent.

"Have they given up?" Doug asked hopefully as Hanson peered carefully through the small glass pane in the door.

"No" he said dully as he watched the two figures drift past. "They're inside."

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"So what's the plan?" Harry Ioki asked as he sat beside Fuller as the older man drove full speed towards Greenwood High.

"From what we know Petrelli doesn't like doing deals anywhere that can be connected to him or his 'businesses', which doesn't really give us much to go on."

"Then what the hell are we doing?" Judy asked becoming more agitated by the second.

"We're going to Greenwood. We talk to Jackson and Stanford and we scour the place for any sign of where they might have taken Penhall and Hanson, tyre tracks, skid marks, anything we can find."

"In this whether? Captain, any tracks will have been washed away."

"Well if you've got any suggestions Hoffs I'd like to hear them, because unfortunately I forgot to get Tom and Doug tagged." Fuller snapped. "Look guy's, we've got officers looking all over the city, those that aren't looking have been told to keep their eyes peeled. They'll turn up sooner or later."

"Great, so we just wait for them to wash up dead on the banks of some river somewhere."

"They're big boys now Jude, they can handle themselves." Harry said turning to smile reassuringly at his long time partner.

"Usually I'd agree with you Harry. But from everything Briody told us this guy is pretty ruthless. I'm pretty sure taking a couple of cops out of the picture won't bother him too much."

"Penhall and Hanson know what their doing."

"Do they? Come on Harry, we all know Hanson should not have been on this case."

"What are you saying Judy? That this is my fault?" Harry snapped.

"Well it was your case before you decided you wanted out."

"That's nice Jude." he said glaring at the young woman in the back seat.

"Could you give it a rest you two. I've got enough to deal with." Fuller said sternly, leaving the two younger officers sheepishly sulking.

The rest of the journey had passed in an uncomfortable and restless silence, each officer buried deep in their own thoughts. So it was oddly relieving when they finally arrived outside Greenwood High School. As soon as they stepped out of the car Jackson and Stanford sprang to meet them.

"I'm sorry Captain Fuller. I have no idea what happened. We we're watching the whole time." Jackson, in full nervous rookie mode, babbled as he approached.

"No ones blaming you." Fuller said, trying to keep his frustration and worry out of his voice. "Why don't you just take me through what happened." The two uniformed officers described everything from the past hour, from their final brief discussion with the young undercover officers, and what little they saw afterwards until the others had finally arrived.

"We've searched this place over and over Captain, but there's nothing. It's like they just vanished." Stanford said apologetically.

"People don't just vanish." Judy informed him tartly. "You sure you didn't just fall asleep." she finished snidely.

"I can assure you we never took our eyes away for a second." Stanford snapped back.

"Where's the rest of your unit?" Fuller asked interrupting their exchange.

"They went out looking for the amazing vanishing car." Stanford replied throwing a withering glance at the young black woman across from him. "We're in radio contact so if they find anything they'll be in touch."

"You don't have any idea at all which way they might have gone?"

"If they turned right out of here they'd have had to go right by us. Lights or no lights we would have seen them if they were right next to us. So I'm placing my bets on them going right, down Riverside." Jackson replied, pointing towards the road disappearing out of sight round the corner.

"What's down that road?"

"Houses mostly, maybe a few shops. It's not exactly a metropolis."

"Ok, guys. I want to you to spread out and search every inch of this place. Find me anything that might give us an idea of which way they went, and I don't care if it's one of Hanson's gum wrappers or the fallout from one of Penhall's bad jokes. Stanford, I want you with me. And Hoff's" be began speaking quietly to the young woman, "I know you're worried, we all are, but it's not Stanford and Jackson's fault, so could you can the attitude and concentrate on helping us get those boys back safe and sound." he said before turning irritably to the others. "Guy's, we don't have all night, we're on a bit of a deadline here." he snapped sending the younger officers off in search of anything that could lead them to their missing friends.

"Stanford." Fuller said grabbing hold of the uniformed cop's arm. "Show me where Hanson's car is and exactly where you lost track of this other car."

The company searched in vain, the heavy rains having washed away any possible trail the vehicle could have left behind. In Jackson's opinion they were grasping at straws, trying to find even the smallest hope to grab onto. He knew that even if it hadn't been raining so heavily there was no way there would have been any tracks. The car would have been barely moving as it went past. Yet here they were scouring the place in the latest of a number of pointless searches. He looked over at the undercover cops who were wasting time with him and felt that pang of guilt again as he saw their drawn and worried faces. He was about to say something to try and reassure them when Fuller and Stanford came heading back.

"Anything?" the captain asked wearily, answered only by tired shaking of heads.

"We're wasting our time Captain." Judy said frustrated. "This was a complete dead end, so what do you suggest we do now?"

"Back to the drawing board." he sighed feeling helpless.

Harry swung his torch round one last time and, sighing deeply, turned to walk back to the others, ready to give it up as a bad job, when he spotted something that made him stop dead. Shining the small torch on the road he could make out some sort of trail in the puddles of rain scattered on the tarmac.

"Over here!" Harry called out suddenly as he stared intently at something on the tarmac.

"What is it?" Fuller called as he raced over, closely followed by Hoffs, Jackson and Stanford.

"How many cars have been by here since you pulled up?"

"Just Hanson's and Petrelli's."

"Just how old would you say that car was?" Harry asked turning to Jackson.

"Hard to say? About 5 years, 7 at the most. Why?"

"Because it's leaking some serious oil." Harry finished as he shone his torch on the rainbow swimming in the waterlogged road.

"How can you be sure it's from the right car?" Judy asked looking at Harry with cautious hope in her eyes.

"I doubt that the Mustang would have sprung an oil leak without Hanson knowing." Harry said with a slight smile.

"How far along do these tracks go?" Fuller asked, his businesslike voice cutting through the wind.

"I haven't checked, but from what I can make out they carry at least to the end of the street. It's not easy to tell in this light."

"That would fit with your guess of them taking a right down here." Fuller said turning to Jackson.

"It's not really much to go on though is it?" the officer replied.

"Well right now it's all we've got." Fuller said thoughtfully before turning his full attention the two uniformed officers standing beside him. "Do you think you'd be able to recognise the car if you saw it?"

"Sure. Black 7 series beamer. New York plates."

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked.

"Follow the yellow brick road." Fuller replied as he strode purposefully towards his car.

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Doug gazed intently around the room, trying desperately to find some way out. He was so engrossed in his task that it was a while before he noticed how badly Hanson was shaking as he stood in the middle of the floor. At first he wasn't sure whether it was from the cold, being shot, or something else until he noticed his eyes were blank and as wide as saucers as they darted erratically around the room. He was shaking so badly Doug thought he was having a seizure.

"They never got me." He chanted as he stared vacantly around him, his mind seeing large heavy set figures walking threateningly towards him.

"_We're going to break you little fishy."_

"Its fine, they never got me." he said through gritted teeth as he screwed his eyes shut.

"Tom? Are you alright?" Doug said slowly approaching him.

"I can't stay here." he said distantly as his hands hung by his sides, his fist clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

"Come on, it's ok."

"I can't be locked up again. I can't" he said as he raised his hands and began pulling at his hair, the shards of glass tangled in it cutting into his long fingers.

"Stop it!" Doug yelled as he pulled his friends hands away before they were shredded. As he grabbed hold of the smaller mans wrist he was shocked to find how thin they seemed. Hanson had never had much weight on him but the arm that Doug held in his hands was practically emaciated. When had he last eaten? He glanced into his friends eyes in a panic and tried desperately to control the cold shiver that was running down his spine. They were the same dark, long lashed rimed eyes he had seen look at him in annoyance a thousand times but there was no sign of Tom in those empty orbs. There was no sign of anything.

"Tom, come on man. Come back. I need you with me buddy."

"Why didn't you just let them shoot me?" he said, his expression still vacant and distant.

"Because you're my best friend."

"I can't do this, I want it to be over."

"It will be over, we just have to get out of here."

"No. It's never going to be over." he snapped his eyes now flashing black with anger. "It doesn't stop. They keep nagging and nagging and they won't leave me alone." he seethed, once again pulling at his hair and shredding his hands with the glass still tangled in there.

"Stop!" Doug yelled grabbing hold of him again and holding him in his strong grasp. "Who are you talking about Tom?" he asked trying to stay calm. But his friend didn't respond, he just stood shaking in Doug's grip shying away from menacing figures Doug couldn't see.

"Tom, whatever's happening you can get through it. I'll help you." he said turning Tom to face him and breathing a small sigh of relief when he saw recognition in his eyes.

"I'm tired of getting through." Tom said quietly. "It's too hard. You should have let them finish me off"

"That's rubbish. Listen to me, I don't want to hear you talking like that again. You're stronger than that". He was shocked when Hanson let out a wild burst of laughter.

"Am I?" he said. "You know, people have been saying that for years. Don't let them push you around Tommy, you're stronger than that. You're doing a great job of being strong for your mom Tommy, your dad would be proud of you. Don't let this place break you Hanson, be strong. Do you want to see how strong I am Doug?" he said with eerie calm as he gazed at his partner.

"Hanson…."

"Look how strong I am Doug." He said as he pulled up his sleeve, exposing not only the wound Doug had dressed what now seemed like a lifetime ago, but also the crisscross of scars, both old and new, that decorated his forearm. "Does that look like something a strong person like me would do Penhall?"

"What the hell did you do?" he yelled, anger welling up inside him.

"I wanted to see if it would bleed."

"You wanted to see if you'd bleed?" now it was Doug's turn to laugh. "What did you think was going to happen? You'd leak orange juice? You promised me you wouldn't try anything like that again."

"I didn't promise you anything. You just took it for granted cos good old Hanson would never be so stupid and selfish would he." he said glaring with wild eyes at his friend. "It was all too much ok. This case, all these memories I have tried so hard to lock away, all people's expectations of me. The pressure was too much, I had to do something or I was going to burst."

"You could have tried talking to me."

"Why? So you could judge me and hate like so many others? You really wanna know what these are?" he asked waving his scarred arm. "They're for every lie that ever fell from my lips or dropped into my ears. They're for every time I failed, every hurt I caused. For each time I couldn't live up to what you all expected of me. They're for every second I spent in that cell, every tear I should have cried but couldn't, every memory I don't want. They're for every life I should have saved and didn't even try."

"Listen to me. How many times do you need to hear this? It was not your fault."

"Well this says different doesn't it."

"How many times before have you done this?" Doug asked nervously.

"I haven't" Tom replied, as usual the lies slipping off his tongue so easily.

"Tom, are you telling me the truth."

"I don't know. I've spent so long telling lies I wouldn't know the truth if it hit me in the face."

Their momentary distraction was cut short by the sound of crashing along the hallway outside the door. Tom glared at the door, the expression on his face Doug recognised all too well this time. It was the expression he knew meant that Tom Hanson was not impressed.

"That's it!" he yelled gesturing wildly with his arms. "I'm tired, bored, I'm bleeding and I had to waste good grog on a fucking bullet wound. This stops now." He finished as he walked purposely towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out of here."

"Hanson don't be stupid. There are five of them out there and only two of us, and in case you haven't noticed, they've all got guns."

"So have we."

"Not exactly the same though is it?" Doug said as he held up the quite unimpressive looking .38.

"So you stay here."

"Hanson, you're in no condition to be running round after guys with machine guns. You're bleeding and you're clearly…." Doug began before stopping dead at the realisation of what he was about to say.

"Crazy?" Tom asked calmly. "Insane? Nuts? A total nutball? Am I close?"

"We're clearly not equipped to face them head on." Doug replied looking guilty.

"Are you coming or not?"

"No way. This is nuts."

"Fine." Tom shrugged as he checked his gun and headed out of the door, leaving Doug standing dumbfounded. Just what he needed. Stuck in the middle of nowhere surrounded by armed assailants with only an unstable madman with a death wish to help him.

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The black and white had followed slowly behind the undercover captain's car for about ten miles as they vainly followed the random oil stains that had until recently decorated the road. After stopping periodically and taking it in turns to check that they were still following in the right direction they were all wet, cold and frustrated. And now, while Doug was trying to restrain an unbalanced and frantic Hanson, Harry was taking his turn to search for the way ahead. Having nothing but a small torch and the car headlights to light his way it was difficult to make much out clearly. However, it was very clear that the trail had run cold. He returned to the car and looking at his partner and commanding officer with defeated and hopeless eyes told them the situation.

"There's no sign at all. Either it's been washed away or we lost the trail at the last junction."

"What do we do know?" Jude asked forlornly.

"Keep going the way we're headed unless we find anything to tell us different." Fuller said decisively, hoping that he was making the right call.

"What good's that going to do? It's just running blind Captain." she replied. Fuller turned to meet her gaze and was searching for the right words to reassure her when his recently acquired and ridiculously bulky car phone began its shrill ringing. Exchanging hopeful glances with his officers he snatched up the receiver.

"Fuller!" he barked.

"Captain Fuller, its Garrett. I just got a call from patrol out in Edison. They say they saw the car going out of the city, east on route 5."

"Are you sure it was them?"

"The description and licence plate matches Captain."

"Did they say who was in the car?"

"No. Just that it was headed out of the city."

"What could there possibly be along that route?" Fuller said thoughtfully, more to himself than anyone else.

"It's pretty much just an old business area. There used to be quite a buzz around it until a couple of years ago. There's only a few businesses running out there now, and that's only cos the rents cheap."

"Where is he going? I want you to look into any maps, plans or records for that area. He's gotta be heading somewhere and we need to find out where."

"Already on it."

"Ok. Thanks. You hear anything else call us."

"Will do sir."

"We know which way they headed." He said as he slammed down the receiver. "Now all we need is to know where the hell they are."

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Hanson crept around the hallway, staying as flat against the wall as he could, listening intently for any sign that someone might be hanging about. He could hear muffled voices arguing but he couldn't tell what direction they were coming from.

_"Oh come on. You really think they're going to give up that easily."_

"Not now. Come on man keep it together." he told himself as he strained his ears to listen to the voices.

"No way. I want no part of this." said a shaky voice he decided belonged to James Mathews.

"Hey, you made a deal with him, same as the rest of us."

"I did it to help my family, and this was never part of the deal."

"Come on. It's not as if you even know the guy. He could be just another face on the street."

"I knew his dad, and you don't repay a friends kindness by killing his kid." Tom gave an involuntary gasp and his brow furrowed in confusion. This guy was his dad's friend? He didn't even recognise him.

"Hey did you hear something?" he heard Marley say.

"No. Anyway it doesn't matter, I'm outta here."

"Ok fine. I'll do the job myself. Go back and face Petrelli."

Glancing around the hallway he couldn't see anyone nearby so he carefully made his way round the corner and allowed himself a small smile when he spotted the door, not giving a thought to what he'd do when he got outside, and out numbered by armed nut jobs. But then he had no intention of getting past them.

"_And what about Doug? Do you think he's going to get out of here by himself?"_

Telling himself Fuller would find Doug and everything would be fine he carried on.

"_You know they're not coming for him. They don't even know where you are."_

"I don't care."

As he neared the door he heard footsteps coming up behind him. Instinct kicked in and in a panic he twirled round and aimed his gun in the direction they were coming from, his finger twitching nervously on the trigger.

"Tom, its ok it's me?" came Doug's desperate whisper.

"Jesus Doug. What are you doing?" he hissed as he began to make out his partners form in the darkness.

"You really think I'd let you go running about the place by yourself in this state."

"I'm not staying here trapped like a rat on a sinking ship."

"Tom, there are at least six guys out there with machine guns, and in case it had escaped your notice, no one knows where we are."

"I've gotta get out of here Doug." he said simply as he turned and headed for the door.

"Hanson are you insane?" Doug called after him. Tom spun round and looked calmly back at his partner.

"That's right Doug, I am."

"If they see you they'll kill you."

"So?" came the calm blunt reply. He'd pushed it away and held it back for so long but he'd come to a realisation and it came screaming out into his best friends face. "You don't get it do you? I want to die. After all the suffering I caused and shit I've pulled I deserve to die." he yelled before spinning round to face the door and standing with his arms stretched wide. "Come on then!" he shouted to the small unseen gathering outside. "Here I am. If you wanna kill me just fucking kill me. What are you waiting for? I'm right here."

"My pleasure" came a voice from behind him. Startled he spun round and the next thing he knew the sound of gunshot filled the air as he felt something whizz a little too close to his head as Doug grabbed him and tried to drag him down to the floor. Suddenly white light flashed though his eyes and the most intense stinging and burning sensation he had ever known shot through his head. The force of whatever had hit him sent him flying back out of Doug's grip and against the row of heavy metal filing cabinets and the last thing he knew was these heavy grey objects rushing towards him and crushing him to the ground as Doug shouts and further gunfire filled his ears. Then everything went black.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello all. Sorry it's been so long but sadly we had a death in the family so I've had other things on my mind.**

**Anadere –** I'm so glad you're enjoying this and your review really cheered me up. Thanks as well for your lovely review of Nobody's Hero. It seem so long since I wrote it and I'm always surprised people still read it. Really glad you liked it.xx

**MaryKathrine **– Problem solved. I now accept anonymous reviews (I never knew there was a difference sorry :0) ) Thanks for making the effort xx

**Library Tech – **Always pleased to here from you xx

**Ghostwriter **- Thanks as always xx

**Debbiets** – lol don't worry 'Wow' is fine by me xx

**Shire Cat** - your wish is my command :0)

**Zork the Unbearable** - That's so wierd. I just picked the name at random. Glad you like it.

**Rubydoo – **sorry to keep you waiting.

**Ok, here you are folks, sorry if it's not worth the wait.**

Officer James Mathews raced desperately after the retreating figure of Derek Marley as he headed in the direction of the young undercover officers cries.

"What are you doing?" he said as he grabbed hold of the other man and tried to restrain him. "No one needs to die here."

"You know what Petrelli's like. It's either them or us man." he glowered before pulling himself from Mathews grip and speeding round the corner. Wanting nothing more to do with this he turned and made to leave the building. However before he could take more than a couple of steps the sound of gunfire sent him racing after Marley. As he rounded the corner he looked on in shock as the young dark haired uncover officer he knew to be his friends son go flying into the bank of filing cabinets before being buried under their weight.

"What are you doing?" he yelled.

"What you were told to do." Marley replied with a sly grin. That grin was wiped from his face when a furious and distraught Doug Penhall ploughed into him at top speed and began pounding his head on the floor. Marley flailed his arms around desperately trying to land some kind of blow on the younger officer but to no avail. Doug's fury had completely taken over as he was finally able to find someway of physically protecting his friend, whether it was too late or not. His assault was unrelenting, because now Marley had ceased to be just one man who had hurt his friend, for Doug he had become a symbol for everyone and everything that had used his friend up and twisted him around until what was left was something he barely recognised. Every time his fist connected with the older mans face, every time he heard his head crack on the floor he saw the faces of Raymond Crane, Bud Tower and Frank Farrell, he felt like he was getting some kind of revenge for everything his best friend had suffered. Distracted by his anger he didn't notice as Mathews came up behind him and savagely kicked him in the ribs causing him to release the other man who crawled out from underneath the young officer.

"Come on." Mathews said holding out a hand to help Marley up. "His partners a goner and he won't be far behind."

As he heard this Doug's eyes widened in shock as, like a knife to the guts, the image of Tom smashing into the wall, blood flying from his head, flashed before his eyes. He got to his feet and staggered over to where his partner was pinned under the heavy units leaving Mathews pulling Marley to his feet and helping him away. Amazed at how fear and panic can give you the most incredible strength, Doug managed to pull the heavy cabinets away from the slight figure beneath them. He knelt beside him and as he saw his still face and the unnatural amount of blood flowing from where the bullet had hit him anger rose up inside him and he sprang to his feet. Letting out a wordless cry full of grief, anger and hate he flew after the two men. Hearing the roar from behind him, instinct took over and Mathews spun round firing blindly in Doug's direction. The cry of anger turned to one of agony as Doug fell to the floor in a heap, in greater pain than he had ever experienced and blood gushing from the numerous holes in his legs.

"Let's get out of here." Marley said desperately as he tugged at the stunned man beside him. Mathews let go of him and walked wearily over to where Doug was now sprawled. With a quick glance at the young officer with the pain and hatred blazing in his glazed eyes, he walked over to the still figure by the wall.

"Get the hell away from him." Doug cried weakly as Mathews bent down to feel for a pulse. "You touch him, I swear I'll kill you."

"I'd like to see you try" Marley scoffed as he aimed a hard kick to Doug's midsection, causing the younger officer to curl up in pain.

With a huge sigh of relief Mathews managed to locate Hanson's pulse, it was faint but it was there. He got slowly to his feet and walked back to rejoin his partner.

"Come on" he said quietly, "its over."

"I killed him?" Marley asked slightly stunned. Mathews threw a strange glance at Penhall before turning to Marley and silently nodding his head.

"And him?" he asked gesturing towards where Doug squirmed in pain and grief on the floor.

"Like I said." Mathews shrugged, "It's over." He finished as he helped his injured accomplice towards the exit.

As the two men walked away Doug dragged himself over to where his friend lay, feebly calling his name and praying with every inch of his soul to hear Tom's voice answer him. The pain in his legs had subsided and had retreated to a dull throbbing ache which was somehow worse than the searing pain and he was trying with all his strength not to look at what kind of mess they were in. Dreading the thought of looking down and seeing nothing but mangled flesh that bore only the slightest resemblance to what they were, he doggedly continued to work his way over to his friend.

"Hanson?" he croaked, "Tom, come on, please." he finished as he collapsed in a heap not quite by his partners side.

As he began to stir, Tom thought he could hear someone calling to him through the darkness. The voice sounded familiar and desperate, but thinking wearily that it was once again only his own muddled mind he ignored it. What seemed more pressing at that moment was the incredible throbbing in his head. The pain was almost unbearable and paired with the unrelenting voice calling his name it was more than he could stand. Why couldn't they leave him alone? It was better in the darkness, it was peaceful. He didn't want to wake up to the world he'd been trying to escape. It would be so much easier to just stay here in the darkness and never have to open his eyes, or even move ever again. Just as the pain in his head began to send him back into unconsciousness a sudden voice in his head spoke one single word that made him fight his way back to wakefulness.

"_Doug"_

Doug had been with him, he had followed him out into the hallway. He was immediately sure that something had happened to Doug and it was all his fault. It was then that he realised that the voice calling his name was in fact all too real.

"Tom, come on man please. Come back." It was Doug's voice, he was sure of it, but it sounded far away and weak.

"Doug?" he managed to croak.

"Tom. Thank god. Dammit I thought I'd lost you." came his partner's shaky voice. He could hear pain in that voice and it set his mind panicking.

"Where are you?" He tried to open his eyes but they wouldn't move. His eyelids were too heavy, his lashes seeming stuck together with something the consistency of superglue.

"I'm right here. Tom, it's my legs I can't move."

Hanson tried to raise his arm to rub away at whatever was obstructing his eyes but found that his arm weighed about ten tonnes and every breath sent agonising pain through his head and chest and caused nausea to attack his guts. Eventually he raised his arm enough to rub his eyes with the still soaking wet sleeve of his tattered shirt and blinked his eyes into what seemed like the brightest light he had ever seen and closed them again as the pain in his head became too much. Finally, squinting behind his cut and bloodied hand to shield his evidently sensitive eyes he slowly and painfully raised his head to search for the source of the familiar voice. As soon as he began to look round he knew something was very wrong. His eyes refused to focus and it seemed like there was four of everything he gazed at. His head was throbbing, there was an awful high pitched ringing in his ears and every movement was slow and sluggish due to the incredible weakness he felt in every limb. He reached his shaking hand up to push his damp overgrown hair out of his face and cried out in agony as his hand brushed against his temple. He took his hand away and his fuzzy eyes struggled to focus on the tacky solution on his fingers. What had happened? He searched his aching head for any memory of what he was doing here. Then he remembered the sound of the gun and the searing pain and white flashes as he had been thrown back against something large and heavy. He was stunned as the answer came to him in a flash as bright as the one he was remembering. They'd shot him and the bullet had clipped his head. Was he dead then? Was this what it was like? Then if he was dead then so was….

"Oh my god, Doug." he whimpered as he laboriously dragged himself to his knees and, leaving trails of red from his shredded palms, crawled slowly over the short distance to the large object he could just make out a short distance away propped against the wall. "Doug I'm sorry. This is all my fault." he finished as he slumped on the floor beside him.

"No it's not." Doug said, his voice still weak but firm.

"_He doesn't really mean it you know. He's just telling you what you need to hear. It's your fault alright."_

"Stop it!" Tom whispered fiercely.

"_Your cover was blown because they recognised you. They recognised the little cop killer. And now your best friend is paying for your screw up yet again."_

He wanted to scream and let out the awful wail that was building up inside him. Everyone else got to move on and learn from their mistakes, they all got to put them behind them. So why couldn't he. Why was it that his mistakes followed him around and haunted his every move?

"_Because your mistakes are the only ones that get people killed."_

He screwed his eyes up tight and shook his head, sending his head spinning as sharp pain like a bolt of lightening seemed to split his skull in half. He let his head fall back to rest against the wall and as his mind began to slip back into darkness Doug's voice cut through once again.

"Tom, you have to stay awake." he pleaded reaching out and gently shaking him.

"I don't want to." he replied distantly. "Just let me sleep. I'll be ok."

"Hanson, please man, I need you. We're in trouble here."

"Alright. I'm here." he said fighting to bring himself round. This may be his fault, but neither of them were dead yet. Doug needed him and he wasn't going have his best friend's blood on his hands as well. "Where are you hit?"

"My legs." Doug winced, trying not to look down. Tom's still unfocused eyes blinked down in the direction of Doug's legs, stretched out strangely in front of him. Rubbing at his eyes and straining to bring them into focus, he saw a line of very clear bullet holes running across Doug's thighs, like some grotesque join the dots puzzle. From what he could make out most of them were flowing freely but one in particular was spraying like a geiser.

"Shit!" Tom said softly as he realised one of the bullets must have hit an artery.

"What?" Doug yelped in clear panic.

"Nothing." Tom replied hurriedly.

"It's bad isn't it?"

"No. No it's fine. My turn to patch you up that's all."

"Tom, tell me the truth."

"_That would be a first for you wouldn't it? What is the truth Tommy? Go on tell him. He's going to bleed to death because of you. He's at least going to lose that leg. So Tommy, how are you going to tell him that?"_

"Tom, please."

"Ok" he said letting out a shaky breath. "Doug, one of the bullets hit an artery. If we don't find a way to stop it……" he looked at Doug through fuzzy stinging eyes, unable to give voice to what he knew was inevitable.

"Bummer." Doug said trying to smile. "So what do we do now?"

Hanson glared at his partner, his wide dark eyes barely disguising the sudden anger that was rising up inside him. He loved Doug, there was no question about it, but at that moment there was a pretty big lump of hatred mixed in there too. How dare he put him in this position. He would have been quite happy to let himself quietly slip away, just give in to the sleep that was still pulling hard at him and simply let nature take it's course. He could have been free. Now he was being forced back into the position of being responsible for someone else's welfare, someone else wanting him to save them. When were they going to learn he couldn't do it? When were they going to realise he couldn't save them?

"_So just let him go."_

He couldn't do that either. It wasn't just some faceless kid he was meant to be 'helping'. It was Doug.

"We find something to try and stop the bleeding." he said lightly.

"Like what?"

"I'll think of something." he said trying to sound reassuring. "Look Doug, I'm going to have to go and search this place for something to bind that leg."

"Don't leave me."

"It won't take long."

"Tom, you don't know what's out there. You're not exactly in brilliant health yourself you know."

"Maybe not, but I'm the one that can walk." he snapped. Then his face softened as he saw Doug looking like he'd just bitten him. "Stop trying to save me Doug. I'm not worth it."

"You are to me." A slight smile flitted across Hanson's face as he looked at his partner. "What?" Doug asked.

"How can you still see good in everything after all you've seen and been through?"

"Because there is a lot of good out there."

"You still believe that? After everything? Doug, they took your wife after only five days."

"I know. But there is a lot of good out there Tom. I believe that because there was a Marta. Because she led me to Clavo and.." he said looking directly at his friend, "because there's you." Tom's eyes shot up to meet Doug's and he looked back at him with grim determination.

"I'm not going to lose you. Trust me Doug, please."

"This isn't going to end well is it?" Doug sighed looking into Tom's distant but no longer empty eyes. Hanson smiled sadly and got to his feet.

"I'll be right back."

"You know, in the movies saying that is always death."

"Good thing this is real then huh?" Tom replied with a small grin. "Don't go anywhere will ya." he smirked carefully putting Doug's gun in his hand.

"Asshole!" Doug said lightly offering a small tired smile as his partner turned and headed away pulling his own gun out as he went.

Doug watched after him, feeling extremely uneasy as he walked along the hallway, staggering rather than walking, his steps shaky and lopsided. He noticed that his partners head seemed to loll to one side and Tom's right hand was pressed against the right side of his head as if that was the only thing preventing it from falling from his shoulders and he had the sudden sick feeling that they weren't going to make it out of here.

"Tom." he called, his voice regaining some of its strength.

"Yeah?" Hanson replied, not halting his progress.

"I do trust you." Tom stopped and placed his left hand against the wall to steady himself as he turned slowly to face his friend.

"Thanks." he said softly. "I needed to hear that."

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Once he was out of Doug's sight Tom gave in to the tormenting nausea that had been wracking his entire body. Letting go of the wall he fell to his knees as the entire contents of his stomach came pouring out onto the floor before him. Seeing as he had been on a mostly liquid diet lately the pool on the floor consisted mainly of a thin yellowish liquid he suspected may be used to line his stomach. He was a little concerned as he noticed traces of blood in the pool before him but his thoughts were dragged elsewhere as he was assailed by violent dry retching causing the already considerable pain in his head to become almost unbearable. He tried to support himself by placing his hands on the floor but winced in pain as the few shards of glass still embedded in his hands cut deeper into his flesh. Letting out a small almost inaudible whimper he lay his throbbing head on the floor and closed his eyes, trying to make the pain go away.

"_Poor Tommy. You were almost there weren't you? Just couldn't quite make it."_

"Please just go away." he pleaded weakly. "Just leave me alone."

"_You can make me go away if you really want to."_

"Stop it." he whispered.

"_It could be over so easily. You know how to end it. Just do it."_

"I can't. People are counting on me."

"_So what's new? They've been expecting you to clean up their messes for years. The only problem is you just make the mess bigger don't you."_

"That's not true."

"_Isn't it? Face it Tommy, no one ever really needed you. They'd all be better off if you weren't here. Just think of it as doing them a favour."_

"No. Doug needs my help."

"_He wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you. This is the third time you've nearly got him killed."_

"I can't. If I don't slow the bleeding while help comes he'll die."

"_You'll be doing him a favour too. Is there anything really left worth living for? It wouldn't matter anyway. No one's coming for you Tommy. You're on your own. You've always been on your own."_

"Not always."

"_Once maybe they all believed in you, depended on you. Little Tommy, everyone's hero, everyone's big brother. Now look at you. Everything you believed in has turned out to be a lie and all your hopes and dreams are so much dust in the wind. You're nothing but a burnt out, used up husk. May as well give up Tommy."_

Then suddenly, just as he was sure he was going to give in and just curl up and wait for the inevitable, as if she was whispering in his hear he heard Judy's voice willing him on.

"_I'm not giving up on you Hanson. Please don't screw up this time."_

"It's what I always do. Why should this time be any different?"

"_I believe in you. Now get up."_

"It's too hard."

"_Hanson, on your feet now!"_

At that moment all he wanted in this world was to see her face, to tell her he was sorry for everything and to spend the rest of whatever life he had trying to show her just how sorry he was. But thoughts like that were pointless. Thoughts like that fooled him into to thinking that he had some sort of life to look forward to. That he would be able to live rather than simply survive. He was tired of surviving, and if he had really been on his own he would have given up fighting there and then, but he wasn't alone and Doug needed him. He struggled to his feet and once again using the wall to keep his balance he made his way down the hallway as quickly as he could. Which wasn't very quickly as every step was agony due to his throbbing aching head, the still bleeding wound in his shoulder, and the stabbing pain in his hands every time he ran them along the wall, leaving traces of blood in places. Plus every movement caused dull pain shooting across his chest and the entire left side of his upper body where he had been pinned under the metal cabinets.

He had only walked a few feet when he was hit by a tremendous wave of dizziness and nausea causing him to stumble and put his hands out blindly to grasp hold of anything to help him keep his balance. He missed the wall and fell face forward through a swinging metal door. After fighting back the urge to be violently sick he slowly opened his eyes to find himself lying on the cold hard floor of a very run down and disused kitchen. Forcing himself into a sitting position he made his heavy still fuzzy eyes look around the room and he allowed himself a small smile as he noticed the dusty sheets draped over the counter and the tables scattered around the room. Relieved that not everything was going against him he got to his knees and slowly made his way on all fours over to the nearest of these and began to tug it down. If he could tear these into pieces and tie at least one round Doug's leg tight enough he might be able to stop the arterial blood that was fast running out. But what if he couldn't get it tight enough? What if he couldn't get the bullet out? He was no doctor and he really only had the most basic idea of what he was doing. Sudden panic gripped him and his eyes swept rapidly around the room. He couldn't loose Doug. He couldn't let someone else die when he could have saved them, and even if he couldn't save him he had to do everything in his power to try.

"_What's the point? You know you're just going to fail yet again. Another life down the tubes because you messed up."_

"NO!" he snarled, "I won't let it happen. Not this time." he said as he forced himself to his feet. As the floor spun beneath him he had a sudden flash of inspiration and staggered to the counter. He let out a sigh of relief and thanked whatever lucky star, guardian angel, or whatever was watching over him when he found a heap of kitchen utensils piled in a box behind the counter. Picking one out he held it up and turned it over in his hands smiling to himself.

"Perfect."

"_And just what do you plan on doing with that?"_

"Cutting you out if you don't shut the fuck up."

As he turned the instrument over he caught a glance of himself in its reflective surface and was startled when he noticed the blood that had covered the right side of his face and matted in his hair. As far as he could tell it had originated from a deep gash just under the hairline on the right side of his brow. He stared in fascination as he realised how close he had been to having an end to all this. Just a fraction to the left and he would no longer be here.

"_Well aren't you the lucky one!"_

"That's what they all tell me."

"_And are they right?"_

"No." He didn't feel lucky. He felt cheated. He had been so close and here he was playing paramedic to his partner. "Oh shit, Doug!" he yelped as he remembered what he was doing here.

He grabbed hold of the dust cover draped over the countertop and used it to scrub at some of the blood that had run down his face and in his eyes, causing him to wince as he caught the gash the bullet had made as it grazed his temple, then, using the counter to keep his balance while grabbing another item from the pile of shiny kitchen things, he turned and started the hard, arduous journey back to his desperately injured friend.

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As Hanson and Penhall were slowly coming round and discovering their injuries, Marley and Mathews were staggering their way back to Petrelli and the group surrounding him. Blood was still flowing from a sizable gash in Marley's head were it had bounced off the floor while he was being crushed by the ample frame of Doug Penhall and Mathews head was in a spin. None of this had been part of the deal, he had never agreed to kill anyone, and even though the young men inside weren't dead yet, he knew that without help it was only a matter of time. He felt sick when he thought about what he had done, he hadn't even seen the guy coming up behind him, blind panic had taken over and he almost cut him in half. He had to get them help before it was too late. But what could he do? A kind of game plan had begun to form once he realised what he had done, if they were all convinced the job was done and the two young officers were no longer a problem then maybe he could get them out of the way and get the poor kids some medical attention.

"So?" Petrelli asked as they neared the assembled group.

"Job done." Mathews said bluntly.

"Are you sure?"

"Well if they ain't dead now they soon will be." Marley replied with a small grin. "I blew one of them halfway down the hall, and thanks to Jimmy here the other guy's Swiss cheese."

"You realise what might happen if you're wrong. I can make you both wish you were dead." Petrelli said with a twisted smile playing on his lips.

"The job's done sir." Mathews repeated calmly while his palms sweated and his stomach turned. "They both know who I am. I'd have to be out of my mind to want them running round free don't you think?"

"Well well Casey my boy, your old man came through for a change. Doesn't that make you proud?" Casey looked nervously at his feet and mumbled something the others couldn't make out.

"What was that lad?" Petrelli said, his friendly tone somehow threatening.

"I said yes sir. I'm very proud."

"Good boy!" he said patting the nervous teen on the back. His attention switched focus as he noticed a car pulling up a few feet away. "Ah, my ride's here. Now…" he said turning to Mathews, "I have somewhere I have to be so clean up after yourselves won't you."

"Excuse me?" Mathews replied with a puzzled expression on his face.

"I don't want them found. Burn it." he said nodding towards the building.

"What?"

"Are you some kind of moron?" Petrelli asked impatiently. "If they're found it won't take much to trace those bullets back to that gun." he finished, gesturing towards the weapon Mathews still held, which he dropped in horror.

"Maybe." he replied, "But if we start a fire there's going to be all kinds crawling around here. They'll be the police and fire departments and God knows what else, and it will only be a matter of time until they find the bodies. Do you really want to draw that much attention to yourself?"

"Ok then. What bright idea do you have Jimmy?"

"Better you don't know. Plausible deniability and all that."

"Once a cop always a cop, even a bent one." Petrelli said with a sly grin.

"Let's just say my way won't draw as much attention. Just trust me, I'll take care of it." He said nervously, wondering what exactly he was going to do.

"You better." he said smiling and patting Mathews cheek. "I don't want to have to be bothered with this again ok?"

"You won't be."

"I'd better not. You owe me a rather large debt James, don't forget that."

"That's not likely is it." he said throwing an uneasy glance towards his stepson before walking slowly, this time, to the back of the building.

"Boss, you really think he's telling you the truth? He was dead against rubbing them out." Bradwell said as he sidled up to Petrelli while they watched him go..

"No I don't." he said turning and nodding at his driver as he climbed into the passenger seat. "Burn it anyway." he said to the tubby blond officer before the car pulled away and disappeared into the darkness. They were all so intent on the retreating vehicle that no one noticed as Casey slipped away.

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Having always prided himself on being nothing if not practical and rational, Officer Rich Stanford had never really believed in fate, divine intervention or even coincidence. Later when asked about what happened he wouldn't admit to thanking God when he heard the distorted and crackling message coming over the radio in the old black and white as they followed blindly after the undercover captain's car. He had realised two things during the few brief meetings with the two young undercover officers. One was that he could quickly grow to like the large, brash Doug Penhall and his quiet, reserved and soft spoken partner. The other was that something about Tom Hanson was worrying him. He had seen that same look in the boy's eyes he had seen countless times over the course of his career. That look that said 'I've had enough.' He just never thought he'd see it in one so young. He had to remind himself that they weren't as young as they appeared. Maybe that was what made him so nervous, those eyes that seem too old and out of place in those too young and almost unblemished features. Whatever it was there was definitely something off about the guy and it was making him uneasy and anxious, and he barely knew him, so he was pretty sure the ones in the car in front must be going out of their minds.

They were speeding along east on route five following even the slightest lead that could possibly give them a clue to the whereabouts of the two missing officers when the police radio cackled into life.

"_Attention all units. Reported shots fired on Westbank Road Business Park. Please respond"_

Jackson shot a quick questioning glance at Stanford sat in the seat beside him.

"It couldn't be could it?" he asked his partner.

"Well there's your answer." Stanford replied as he pointed at the road sign that was fast approaching as they continued on their way. Westbank Business Park was written in big bold letters and the sign was telling them they would reach it if they carried on going straight ahead.

"What do you think? Too much of a coincidence?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'll call it in." Stanford said snatching up the receiver. "This is Charlie Delta 15 responding. We are in the vicinity and are heading directly to location."

"_We copy that Rich. Over and out."_

"Ok, better make sure Fuller knows."

"_Captain Fuller?!"_ came the urgent voice over the older officers radio.

"I heard it Stanford." Fuller replied shortly.

"_You think it's them?"_

"We'll soon find out. Don't worry about sticking with us. You get there as fast as you can we'll meet you there."

"_Will do Sir."_

As Fuller replaced the radio Hoffs immediately jumped on him.

"It's them isn't it?" she asked, her voice containing hope and fear in equal measure. Part of her was praying that it was them, part of her was praying it wasn't, thinking that deep down she knew that if it was them those shots probably weren't from tiny service revolvers.

"We'll know when we get there." Fuller replied, trying to seem calm and in control when he was anything but.

"It has to be." she said turning large pleading eyes on Harry. The young Vietnamese man placed his hand on the one she was using to grip the back of the seat so hard that her knuckles were turning white. He looked into her face, knowing that neither of them believed this was going to turn out well. He knew she was thinking about how strange and erratic Hanson had been lately. He wondered briefly if she knew about his voices. Should he tell them? Well, if they didn't get to them soon it wouldn't really matter. So instead he looked her in the eyes and lied.

"They'll be alright Judy." he tried to reassure her as Fuller once again grabbed his rather unimpressive looking car phone and hastily dialled familiar number for Jump Street Chapel.

Almost immediately Dean Garrett picked up the receiver and sounded more than relieved to hear Fullers voice on the other end.

"Great timing Captain, I was just trying to contact you."

"You heard the call then?"

"Yeah. Not only that but we know where the shots were fired from, 425 Westbank Road. It's scheduled for renovation, owned by some company called Di Matteo Inc, some kind of import business, mean anything to you?"

"Never heard of them."

"You think it was just picked at random with it being empty?"

"Probably. We're just heading out of Edison, how long do we have before we get there?"

"I'd say it's about ten miles out of the city. Given the weather conditions I'd say it'll take you….."

"That doesn't matter. I want you to get me plans of that building and get them down here as soon as you can."

"It's a bit short notice Captain but I suppose if I…."

"I don't care how you get them just do it, and fast."

"Yes sir."

Harry and Judy exchanged nervous glances as Fuller pressed down on the gas, both hoping that 'soon' wouldn't be too late. Judy's eyes wandered to watch the landscape outside the window passing by, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap as she whispered to herself.

"I'm not giving up on you Hanson. Oh god please don't let us screw this up."

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Doug was resting his head against the wall, his eyes closed but listening intently for any sound he could hear, his gun gripped tightly in his hands. He felt weak and dazed, and all that was keeping him clinging to consciousness was his concentration on his surroundings and worry for his partner. He had no way of telling how long Hanson had been gone, for all he knew it could have been 10 minutes or ten hours, and every second he was gone made him more uneasy.

He could feel himself slipping away and was just about to give in to unconsciousness when he heard stilted footsteps shuffling outside the door. His eyes shot open and he feebly held up his gun, thumbing back the trigger ready to shoot when he realised who it was stood in the doorway.

"Doug, it's ok. It's only me."

"Jesus Tom, where have you been?"

"Raiding the local pharmacist" he said with a grin as he held out the dusty sheet, knife and metal spoon.

"Wow, those budget cuts are really playing hell with the health service." Doug replied with a small lopsided smile as Hanson fell heavily to his knees and began ripping up the material before picking up the knife he had grabbed from the kitchen in the hope that he may be able to get the bullet out of the wound.

"You know what you're doing?" Doug asked nervously not at all comfortable with the idea of letting his friend stick a knife into him with only the moonlight coming through the dusty windows to help them see.

"Not a clue." Hanson replied, the grin still on his face slightly horrific in the pale light making Doug uneasy.

As he watched his friend examine the wound and trying to locate the bullet, deep concentration distorting his features, he kept having to divert his eyes when ever he caught sight of Hanson's scarred arm. Tom's tattered jacket had been left behind after they had fled the hallway, now he wished he had thought to grab it because every time he saw those scars he couldn't help remembering Tom's distressing outburst, and how desperately he had wanted to escape from everything that was hurting him. More than that he supposed they were undeniable evidence that no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and knowing Tom as he did he was sure he was trying pretty damn hard, his best friend was falling apart right before his eyes and he couldn't do anything about it. That same unstable friend that had the tip of a kitchen knife in his leg.

In fact as Doug watched and worried Tom was trying with every ounce of strength he had to ignore the commotion inside his head. Between the ringing in his ears, the way his head was buzzing and throbbing and the ever present nagging and taunting he felt like his head was about to explode. He pushed it all to the back of his mind, told himself that there wasn't people talking to him he couldn't see and he didn't care what had happened to the whiskey he had been carrying round, and concentrated on the task at hand. The bullet was only just visible and buried deep inside Doug's leg. He twisted the knife in slowly and carefully trying his best to not cause too much pain or damage. He had almost worked it out when he heard Doug cry out.

"How you doing?" he asked lightly needing to hear his friends voice to keep the panic from his own. When he got no answer he looked up and in deep panic watched Doug's heavy eyelids begin to slip down over his glazed eyes. He had lost a lot of blood and he knew it would only be a short time until he lost consciousness. Tom also knew that focusing on Doug and listening to his voice was the only thing making it possible to ignore the nagging in his mind that was urgently demanding his undivided attention. Well it could beg and nag all it wanted, it wasn't going to get it. Doug needed him and that was all that mattered.

"Hey, I need you to stay awake."

"I can't. It hurts too much."

"Doug please. You have to keep me here. I can't focus on anything right now, my head feels like my brains are been squeezed out of a hole the size of a pinprick and I'm clearly out of my mind."

"Don't say that. You're not."

"Doug, I'm losing it. We both know that and I can't hide it anymore." he said seriously looking intently into Doug's face. "I know you don't want to hear this but you need to understand. Right now I don't care if I make it out of here or not. In fact it would be a relief if I didn't. But I care what happens to you, and that little boy that's at home waiting for you. The only thing that is stopping me from just walking out there and letting them blow me sky high is making sure you get through this. But I can't get you through this on my own. I need you to help me. You're losing too much blood and if I don't stop it soon then neither one of us is getting out of here. You have to help me stop the bleeding because I've made a bit of a mess of my hands and I won't be able to tie it up tight enough. So please Doug try and stay with it ok." He finished as Doug heard the sound of something small and metallic drop on the ground.

"Ok its out" Tom said as he grabbed a wad of the torn up material and began to press hard on the wound now gushing even more. "Now all we need to do is stop the bleeding" he said as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

Doug was amazed at how calm and together Hanson sounded. When he looked at him he couldn't believe that this was the same person who had been shaking in his arms not long before, the same person who had poured out all that pain and hopelessness. At that moment that person seemed a distant memory. He didn't see an unbalanced broken madman, all he saw kneeling before him was Tom, just the same as he had always been. But he wasn't going to let himself be fooled. He couldn't even if he wanted to because every time he caught a glimpse of Tom's shaking bloodied hands he was reminded of how Hanson had looked standing there with his face as white as a sheet and his eyes desperate and wild as he viciously pulled at his hair. This made him all the more determined not to let this beat him. If Tom was able to even consider pulling himself together then he had to at least try. He remembered back in his days at the academy someone had told him that to do this job and stay sane you had to have some kind of anchor, someone there that would keep you grounded and keep your head straight. He had dismissed it at the time and during all the years in between. He had coped fine despite the fact that he had never really had a stable family to go home to, to support him. But it was with some surprise that he now realised that he'd had that anchor all these years. It was kneeling in front of him trying to save him from bleeding to death. He had been there in El Salvador, Doug's concern for his safety and his friend's continuous support being the only things keeping him from completely loosing if after Marta's death. He had always been there, and if ever Tom needed his own anchor it was now.

"Ok, what do you need me to do?" he said with steely determination.

"Tie this as tight as you can while I hold these pads in place." Tom replied handing him one of the long strips of cloth he had torn.

"No problem" he said with a weak smile as he took the torn strip of table cloth out of Hanson's shaking hand and tied it round the folded torn pieces of cloth Hanson was pressing against the wound. "What are you going to do with the spoon?"

"We have to make some kind of tourniquet. If we twist the cloth round this we can make it tighter." he explained as he wrapped another length of the torn sheet an inch above the pouring wound.

"Ever thought of making a career change?" Doug asked raising his eyebrows.

"A doctor? Nah. My bed side manners lousy."

"I'll take your word for it." Doug said his voice shaking as he felt Tom pulling the cloth so tightly that he could feel the circulation to his leg being stemmed.

"Ok, now tie it."

With shaking hands Doug managed to securely tie the cloth tight enough to at least slow the blood that was oozing from his leg and with a shaky breath leaned back against the wall as Tom used the heels of his injured hands to work the spoon between the cloth and Doug's leg and twist it round to make the dressing as tight as possible.

"How bad does it look?" Doug asked as he closed his eyes and began taking deep breaths...

"Not good." Tom replied, examining Doug's wound knowing that if they kept the circulation restricted for too long he would most likely loose his leg.

"Neither do you." he said as he opened his eyes and looked back at his partner with deep concern etched on his pleasant, usually good natured features.

"I got tired of showing you up." he grinned.

"Tom, I'm serious."

"I'll be fine. I'll prove it. I can tell how many fingers you're holding up and everything."

"This isn't a joke." Doug snapped.

"Oh I know it isn't Doug, believe me." Hanson replied, his eyes blazing.

"I'm scared for you."

"Well be scared for the both of us because I think we're pretty much stuck here."

"You think they're still out there?"

"I don't know."

"After what happened they probably think we're dead."

"_You should be so lucky."_

"Maybe." Tom replied rubbing the heel of his hands against his head trying to push the voice away. "It couldn't hurt to get out of this hallway. The room I got these fine bandages from only had one door and a counter we can crouch behind. It'll be easier to hold them off there than in here if they come back." he finished slowly getting to his feet and looking down at his partner.

"What do you think, can you stand?"

"I'll try." Doug replied holding out his hand for Hanson to pull him up.

The smaller man kneeled down beside him and put an arm around his waist and draped Doug's arm around his shoulder. Getting the best grip he could he stood up very slowly and unsteadily as he tried to both support and lift the larger mans weight, only just managing to keep his balance as he dragged him to a standing position. However as soon as they were upright, Doug felt his legs give way and they landed in a heap on the cold floor.

"I thought you said you'd lost weight." Tom said, groaning slightly as he shifted out from underneath his partner.

"I did. I never said I kept it off." Doug smiled uncomfortably.

"I don't think I can move you Doug." he said helplessly. "I'm sorry I'm letting you down again."

"No you're not. I shouldn't have let you leave that room."

"Trust me Doug, you wouldn't have been able to stop me." Tom replied as they exchanged a nervous glance. Doug's eyes skimmed over the gash in Tom's head and the still bleeding wound in his arm, then down to his own legs to see the numerous bloody holes that looked as if they had cut him in half and a sinking realisation came to him.

"We're gonna die in here aren't we?"

"Yeah." Hanson replied bluntly.

"Jesus Christ." Doug sighed, his voice beginning to waver.

Tom saw the helpless fear on his friends face and felt like someone had just kicked him hard in the stomach. This was all because of him. He knew that now. They we're stuck in here because they recognised him. Doug had been shot because he had been so desperate to end his suffering he hadn't given a though to what would happen to Doug. In fact he had said he didn't care. Well he did care, he cared a hell of a lot and he wasn't just going to let Doug bleed to death on the floor of some old building, he was going to get them out of here. With his eyes slowly regaining some of their focus, he scanned the hallway for anything he could find to help him move his partner. If he could just find something to help take some of Doug's weight he might be able to keep him out of the way and safe for long enough for him to get help.

"_And how are you going to do that? I've told you Tommy, no ones coming for you."_

Maybe that was true, but while there was the still the slightest shred of hope to cling to he was going to do everything in his power to get them out of here. After all he was used to holding on to even the tiniest glimmer of hope, he'd been doing it for years.

He went through numerous possibilities in his mind of possible solutions. He could leave Doug here and go off and search the building for anything that would serve as a crutch, but in his current condition he had no idea how long that would leave Doug on his own for, and clearly taking him along with him was out of the question.

Doug watched his friend looking hopelessly around them, his manner becoming more and more frustrated. Then he noticed his eyes widen and he jumped, well more like half pulled and half stumbled, to his feet and then disappeared through a doorway, minus its door a few feet from where Doug half lay on the floor.

"Hanson, what the hell are you doing?" he called out in panic. It was only a few moments however before Tom reappeared pushing a tatty office chair wearing a daft grin on his pale drawn face.

"Your chariot awaits" he said gesturing grandly.

"You couldn't find me a Porche with a chauffer then?" Doug smirked. In any other situation he would have laughed at how ridiculous the idea was.

"Yeah but they all had ridiculously high mileage."

"Then I guess this will have to do." he shrugged as Tom began to help him onto the chair. Even putting the tiniest amount of weight on his legs was agony so Doug was relieved and extremely grateful when he realised that Hanson was supporting most of his weight as he lifted him onto his makeshift wheelchair.

"All aboard?" Tom asked distractedly, trying to sound cheerful while struggling not to vomit and block out his tormentors at the same time.

"Yep" Doug answered with a small smile.

"Ok. Fasten your seatbelt."

"So you gonna give me the guided tour?"

"I'll ask for a guide book at reception." Tom quipped as he began to push, grateful for the extra support the chair gave him as he leaned heavily on the back of it as he wheeled his partner to what he hoped would be temporary safety.

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While Hanson and Penhall were hoping help was on its way, while that help was trying desperately to get to them and Officer James Mathews was desperately trying to find them and somehow get them out of harms way, the men on the outside were trying to make all this irrelevant.

Planks of wood from the skip that Hanson and Penhall had hidden behind were being piled up against the building and soaked in gasoline, with some being thrown through the open window for good measure.

"Are you sure that's going to do it?" Bradwell asked as Marley poured the last of the gas on the door.

"The place will go up like hay during a drought." he replied with a hint of relish in his voice.

"Yeah, but Jimmy's in there."

"One last thing to worry about." Marley replied with a grin.

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Doug was shaking viciously as Tom helped him out of the chair. They were both still wet and cold from being outside and Hanson hoped that was all it was, but the sweat pouring from his partners shaking form told him different. Praying he had got the bullet out whole he managed to support Doug's entire weight on his slight and injured form.

"What's going on out there?" Doug asked, his voice small and strained.

"I don't know." he replied dismissively. "How you doing?"

"Fantastic." Doug said rolling his eyes.

He lowered Doug gently to the floor behind the covered counter and made his way over to the window. Outside he could just make out three figures across the other side of the building piling something against the wall by the door. He thought he could smell gas.

"_Well there you go. Just what you deserve. You're going to bun in hell Tommy."_

Was this what it was? Had that bullet actually killed him and this was hell he thought to himself. If it was then so be it. He'd had enough.

"Are they gone?" came Doug's voice from behind them.

"No." Tom replied distantly, "They're still out there." He finished as he turned from the window.

"Hey, are you ok?" Doug snapped desperately as he saw Hanson's eyes had become worryingly vacant.

"I think we both know that's a pretty dumb question." he said absently as his eyes darted backwards and forwards across the room.

"Are they back? The err… you know" Doug asked wearily following his partners gaze and felt his stomach churn when Tom smiled sadly and nodded his head.

"What can I do?"

"Not much. Just keep talking to me ok."

"Tom when we get out of here you need to get help."

"What I need is for you to promise me something."

"What?"

"You'll keep this quiet. I don't want anyone to know. I can't stand the idea of everyone feeling sorry for the poor little psycho."

"Tom…."

"Promise me."

Doug's eyes scanned Hanson's face, the dried blood that was covering most of his brow, the dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises against the whiteness of his skin. He noticed the way his eyes would occasionally dart round in fear looking at something Doug wasn't able to see and the way he was constantly wringing his hands even though it was probably causing him pain due to the glass still stuck in his palms.

He looked at him and he felt tired and spent. He wanted to tell Tom that he loved him and would do anything he asked of him but he was tired of being the one to keep his secrets. That it was eating at him from the inside out. He wanted to tell him no he wouldn't keep it quiet, that maybe it was time he stopped protecting him and started helping him. But he didn't. Instead he did the same thing he always did. Took a deep breath and did whatever Tom Hanson asked.

"Sure I promise."

"Thank you."

"Are we gonna make it outta here?"

"How the hell should I know?!" he snapped. Why did everyone think he had all the answers? "I'm sorry Doug. Just sit tight, Fuller will find us." he said wondering if his words sounded as empty and forced to Doug as they did to him.

"Yeah course he will." Doug smiled weakly. "I just hope he doesn't leave it too long." he finished in a voice that sounded to Tom like it was drifting away. He turned to look at him and felt his insides knot. He saw the sweat pouring from Doug's brow, the sallow tinge to his skin and the way he was shaking and was convinced that there were still fragments of the bullet left inside Doug's leg.

"_Never quiet good enough are you pal? No matter how hard you try you can never quite save them can you?"_

"No. This isn't going to happen. Not this time." he said, his voice cracked and shaky with fear and panic as he was Doug's eyes roll back in his head and his heavy lids close.

"No, Doug come on." Tom pleaded as he desperately shook his partner. "Please Doug, I can't be alone here." repeating hid pleas over and over to an avail.

Realising it was futile, he tried to swallow his panic and let go of Doug and reached out to check his pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt the faint but steady beat under his fingers. Realising there was nothing more he could do ,he laid his aching head back against the wall and let his aching teary eyes drift shut waiting for whatever was going to happen to just happen. He wasn't alone in the darkness, he never was. They were always there telling him the worst things he believed about himself and further convincing him that they were true, so he wasn't entirely surprised when he heard a familiar voice from beside him. The voice he had not really heard in nine years.

"Hey sport."

"Hey."

"You don't look too good."

"I've felt better too."

"How's he?" he asked tilting his head towards the sleeping form of Doug Penhall.

"I don't know."

"You poor kid. You've tried so hard haven't you? But it was never good enough was it Tommy?"

"Don't call me that."

"I've always called you that."

"Tommy's been gone a long time Dad. He left pretty much the same time you did."

"Shame. He was a good kid. I liked him."

"Yeah, so did I. It's a pity you didn't like him enough to stick around to get to know him."

"You weren't my only responsibility sport. I was more than just your dad. There were countless people out there in that city depending on me. You have those responsibilities too, only you don't seem to be able to live up to them."

"Maybe not, but at least I stick around and try. I'm not the one who ran out on his family."

"I didn't run out on you."

"No. You just decided you'd rather be dead. I didn't break Mom's heart Dad, you did. We needed you"

"Stop whining Tommy it doesn't suit you. I didn't raise you to whine."

"You didn't raise me at all."

"You got me there kiddo. No son of mine would have innocent blood on his hands."

"You really think there's anyone left who's innocent? Come on Dad, who's left who's worth saving." he asked, talking to his dead father as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"How about him?" he said pointing to Doug.

"He's different."

"You'd better get him some help Tommy, unless you want his blood on your hands as well. It's never coming off you know."

"What isn't?" he asked vacantly

"All this." He said reaching out and taking hold of his son's hands. "It's stained, and no amount of scrubbing will ever get it out."

The younger Tom Hanson chuckled sadly.

"This isn't real is it?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm pretty sure I'm crazy."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I'm talking to a man who's been dead for the best part of ten years."

"You still can't let me go though can you?" Tom Hanson Snr said with a wry smile. His son looked up and smiled sadly back at him.

"I guess not."

"What happened to my boy who was going to grow up, follow in my footsteps and make me proud?"

"He left dad. He got lost inside who ever I am while we were trying to be who everyone else wanted us to be."

"Always blaming everyone else."

"Oh I'm not blaming anyone. I know how badly I've screwed things up. But all you people who claim to love me so much should have helped me."

"You're a big boy now Tommy. Time to look after yourself." Tom looked at the image of his father with anger and pity in his eyes. All these years he had idolised this man, when really he was just as weak as he was. Just as flawed.

"And to think I wanted to make you proud." he laughed.

"Well you failed there too didn't you. You turned the badge I lived and died for into a joke with your lies and your mistakes."

"Well if it means that much to you Dad you take it." he said pulling it out of his pocket and throwing across the room. "I don't want it anywhere near me anymore. I hate it and everything it stands for."

"There was a time when you cared."

"Yeah I did. I cared too much. Do you want to see what caring gets you?" he said holding out his arm. "All it gets you is hurt." Then he laughed suddenly as he looked up at the image of his father, he knew deep down wasn't there. "But I guess you know that don't you?"

"Yeah."

"They did the same to you didn't they. Just threw you away after they'd used you up, when you had nothing more to offer them."

"No Tommy. I had the guts to take myself out." the image of his father grinned back at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know." he said getting to his feet. "See you around kiddo."

He stared at the spot beside him where his dad had been sitting, thinking how easy it would be to follow him and leave all this behind. His hands were twitching and reaching for his gun when Doug's voice came drifting through his consciousness.

Doug had slipped in and out of consciousness, catching most of Tom's conversation with thin air but unable to work out just how long his friend had been talking to absolutely nothing. As he has watched, faced with the incontrovertible evidence that his best friend had really lost his mind, he had wanted to scream at him at shake him out of it, somehow scare Tom as much as Tom was scaring him. He had been through so many different emotions in the past few days, and now he was tired and completely worn out. His body was ravaged and his heart was aching and all he wanted was his best friend there with him. Taking a shaky breath he spoke to him in the softest calmest voice he could manage.

"Who are you talking to?" Tom turned his distant dreamlike gaze towards his injured friend.

"My dad."

"I don't see him anywhere Tom."

"Of course you don't Doug, he's dead."

"Right. How could I have forgotten that?" he sighed rolling his eyes and letting his head fall back against the wall. "Now what are you doing?" he asked nervously as he watched Hanson staring at his hands as he turned them over in front of his eyes.

"There's so much blood." he said quietly as he held them out towards Penhall.

"Its ok." he replied in the voice he usually reserved for Clavo when he woke up from a particularly bad dream. "Once they're cleaned up they won't look so bad."

"They'll never be clean. There's too much. I've scrubbed them for hours and it won't come off." Doug looked at him, feeling weak and tired.

"Great" he sighed. "The kamikaze pilot's gone and you're Lady Macbeth now."

"I don't know who I am" Hanson said in a small shaky voice. "Help me Doug."

"You're Tom Hanson. You're the best friend I've ever had and one of the best people I've ever known."

"No I'm not. Whoever this useless shell belongs to isn't me. He's gone. He got lost years ago trying to be everything his dad should have been and now he can't find his way back. And your best friend is lying broken and wasted on the floor of some prison cell."

"Ok then. If you're not my best friend then who was it that came to El Salvador with me? Who is it that's been trying like hell to stop me bleeding to death?"

"I don't know."

"What the hell is happening to you Tom?"

"What?" Tom asked looking at him like he'd just woken from a long sleep.

"Never mind. Listen Tom," he said placing his hands on the smaller man's shoulders. "We're in trouble here, you know that don't you?"

"Yeah."

"I can't walk, I need you to help us."

"Right. You need a doctor."

"We both do."

"This is all mine?" Tom asked wide eyed as he looked at the blood on his clothes and his hands.

"Yeah. Most of it. Do you remember any of what's happening here?"

"Of course I do Doug. I'm not crazy." he snapped. "Am I?" he asked uncertainly, his eyes wide and frightened. Doug looked back at him thinking to himself 'yes Tommy you are. You're downright certifiable and if we ever get out of here I'm going to make sure you get well again no matter what it takes'. But he knew that wouldn't help him right now.

"No. You're not." Doug said firmly and gently.

"You're not going to try and lock me away?"

"No."

"Promise."

"Tommy, I promise." Doug replied, his voice strained as the pain in his legs regrouped and attacked with reinforcements. Unable to keep it in anymore he let out a cry, startling Tom someway back to himself again

"Are you ok? What can I do?" he asked desperately.

"Make sure Clavo's taken care of."

"Don't you dare talk like that" he said, anger and fear welling up inside him. "You'll be ok. Just tell me what to do."

"You've done all you can." he replied.

"The hell I have." Hanson said through gritted teeth as he got to his feet pulled out his gun and headed for the door.

"Hanson, what are doing?" Doug yelled after him.

"I'm getting you out of here, and I don't care if it's the last thing I do."

"Oh, and how are you going to do that?"

"Kill every last one of the fuckers and get you to hospital."

"Tom, stop. We're not going anywhere. I can't walk and in case you haven't noticed we don't have any transport unless you plan on pushing that chair for 15 miles."

"They've got a car don't they?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"You're not a killer."

"Not yet" Tom finished as he disappeared from Doug's view. He called after him desperately but to no avail. He was gone and there was nothing he could do.

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Officer James Mathews had slowly walked the entire length of the ground floor of the old office building which has become more like a rat trap over the past couple of hours. Is that all it had been? It seemed like it had been days since he had pulled up here thinking he was just going to stand around and look threatening just as insurance. Later when he would reflect on the night's events it would seem as if it had all happened in one giant flash, but now as he searched nervously for the two injured men time seemed to have slowed to a standstill. After finding no trace of them he was beginning to panic. He wasn't a murderer, he couldn't be. He didn't want any of this. All he had wanted was a little money so his family wouldn't be out on the streets. It was all such an unbelievable mess.

Doggedly he continued on and as he rounded the corner where he had last seen the two young officers he braced himself for the sight of their lifeless bodies. He had done such a good job of convincing himself that for a moment he did see them lying exactly where he had left them bleeding and unconscious. However he realised, to his relief, that the hallway was empty.

"Thank God!" he whispered to himself. "There might still be time."

He knelt on the ground and examined the trails of blood along the floor where Doug had crawled towards his unconscious partner and the trail left by Hanson's shredded palms as he used the wall to steady himself.

It was then that he heard the desperate cries coming from a room a short distance down the hallway.

"_Hanson, for Christ's sake come back!" _

"It's not too late!" he thought to himself as he jumped to his feet and followed the calls.

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Doug half lay on the floor, desperate and frustrated tears standing in his eyes. His legs were throbbing in agony, and his guts were twisted in panic. He had to do something. He couldn't let Hanson go out their on his own, especially not in the sate he was in. A cold chill ran through him as he began to wonder what it would do to Hanson if he actually did kill someone. At this thought he began to try and drag himself up but his legs wouldn't take it. He just collapsed onto the floor in a heap. In frustration he began pounding on his useless bloody limbs before lying hopeless on the ground uselessly calling out his partner's name.

It was then that he heard footsteps in the doorway. He opened his eyes and struggled to sit up, hope resurfacing as he told himself it was Hanson coming back after all. He was about to tell him what an idiot he was but his voice stopped dead in his throat as he saw the figure of James Mathews stood before him.

"Penhall isn't it?" he asked calmly. Doug's eyes widened in panic and he again began to shout.

"HANSON! HELP, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" he yelled at the top of his voice. Mathews looked back at him, his eyes desperate and pleading.

"Shhh. It's ok I'm going to get you out of here."

"The hell you are. You're the ones trying to kill us!" he said before resuming his shouts for his partner. Desperate, Mathews pulled his gun out and aimed it at the man on the floor before him.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you, but if you wanna get out of here alive you need to do exactly as I tell you." he said nervously as he pointed his gun at the incapacitated and vulnerable Penhall. He was about to walk towards the young officer when he felt something cold and metallic touch the back of his neck and stop dead as the soft yet cold voice spoke from behind him.

"I couldn't have said it better myself."


	17. Chapter 17

**IncFinger- **Thanks for reviewing. I'm not sure how to take that comment. Are you saying I'm twisted ;0) (you're probably right xx)

**Debbiets - **xx Glad you like it

**Goodnightsweetprince - **Hey! Nice to hear from you again. Yeah I got a little carried away with the last chapter. This ones not as long i promise. Thanks for your lovely comments xx

**LibraryTech - **Thanks again. Happy belated holidays to you too.

**andaere **- I'm so jealous, I love Disneyland. Hope you had a wonderful time. I'm glad people like how I'm writing Tom. I was worried he might be a bit over the top and totaly out of character. I have got some idea of how the sequel's going to go but i will have to finish this one first ;0).

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He had kept to the shadows as he made his way to the front of the building, with no idea what he was planning to do other than shooting his way out. But for some reason what he did once he got there didn't seem as important as actually getting there. His fevered mind clinging to the one clear thought in his head, and that was to get the hell out of here. Doug's voice was still audible from behind him, calling him, almost begging him to go back. For a moment, hearing the hopelessness in his partner's voice, he almost did.

"_Sure, go ahead. Cower like a cornered rat. What good would that do him?"_

"Listen to him. He sounds so lost."

"_Like that ever made a difference when it was you that was calling for help."_

"Doug did help me."

"_Only after it was too late. The damage had already been done Tommy. Besides, you might as well commit the crime you've suffered for huh?"_

"Once I do that it'll be clear to get him out of here won't it?"

"_Yeah. You'll never get him past them if you don't."_

"It's the only way."

"_That's right. You can fix it all. Get rid of them then it'll all be ok."_

"Then I can get him to a hospital."

"_You really think you should be going anywhere near a hospital? They'll see you for the loony toon you are in a heartbeat."_

"Stop it!" he whispered furiously under his breath. Then, only just above a whisper he heard it again.

"_Hot in here isn't it?"_

It was. He realised then that sweat was pouring down his forehead, seeping into the wound causing an agonising stinging sensation. He was also suddenly finding it more difficult to breathe and that his eyes were also beginning to sting. Then he remembered smelling the gas as he peered out the window of their temporary refuge and all the pieces began to slot together, and if he was in any doubt the smoke that was obstructing his vision confirmed it for him. The place was on fire.

"_This is it Tommy. You're gonna burn."_

He suddenly felt like ice had been shot into his veins and was travelling round his body, clogging his veins and freezing all his organs. An incredible numbness came over him and he could do nothing but stare as the smoke filled the hallway. He was just contemplating how easy it would be to just walk into the flames that would soon be working their way towards him when Doug's panicked, hoarse cry broke his paralysis.

"_HANSON! HELP, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"_

He spun round cursing how easily those you love can obligate your actions and, best as he could manage on his still unsteady feet, headed back the way he came, still feeling the heat coming up from behind him.

"_All you're going to be able to do is die by his side. You can't save him Tommy."_

"I don't have to listen to this. My best friend needs me." he said through gritted teeth while his hand reached up as if to scratch the maddening itch inside his head.

"_Your best friend left you to rot in a stinking cell. All he did was wallow in self pity while you were being beaten and humiliated."_

"It doesn't matter it's in the past."

"_Is it?"_

Taking a deep shaking breath, that made his bruised and battered chest scream and his aching head spin, he tried to focus on what he had to do. Get back to Doug he told himself as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, which in his current state was proving harder than it should. He shouldn't have left his partner in the first place, what the hell had he been thinking? His thoughts drifted away as he found himself staring at the very door he had fallen through not long ago, the place he had taken Doug thinking he would be safe.

"Wrong again." he chuckled sadly to himself as he kicked the door open and stepped through, his still not quite clear vision taking in the scene before him.

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Doug was sprawled on the floor, trying to drag himself to his feet while a man he recognised as being James Mathews stood over him with a gun pointed at his chest.

"I don't want to hurt you, but if you wanna get out of here alive you need to do exactly as I tell you" the older man was saying. On hearing this Tom felt anger as hot as the flames that were fast approaching run through him and, gripping his gun he walked quietly behind Mathews and buried it at the base of taller man's neck.

"I couldn't have said it better myself" he said, his cold distant eyes meeting the startled ones of the older officer.

Doug's eyes widened and he actually allowed himself a small smile of relief when he saw Hanson stood behind Mathews, too relieved to notice the icy chill in his partner's voice or the blankness in his eyes. All he cared about at that moment was the fact that thanks to Tom, Mathews gun was no longer trained in his direction.

"Took your time didn't you?" Doug said, attempting to sound confident and unconcerned. Tom simply glanced over at him with those eyes that seemed to be seeing nothing at all.

"You ok?" he asked in that same faraway voice.

"Peachy. Well, if you aren't counting the bleeding to death bit."

"Give me that gun." Tom demanded turning his gaze to Mathews and holding out his hand for his weapon.

"Ok." Mathews replied nervously and laid his gun on the floor. Hanson stooped to pick it up, still keeping his own gun firmly fixed on the older officer, and tossed into the far corner of the room. "Look, I don't want to hurt you." Mathews said.

"Too late for that." Doug snapped from his position on the floor.

"Shut up Doug." Tom said stonily. "Oh what the hell, I didn't have anything better. What he said." he finished gesturing in Doug's direction.

"I never meant for that to happen." Mathews replied. "I wasn't even looking where I was shooting."

"You think that makes it ok?" that usually soft voice still coming out flat and cold. "You can make all the excuses you want, you still have to shoulder the responsibility in the end believe me."

"Listen kid, I wanna help you. Tommy isn't it?"

"Tom." he replied through gritted teeth. "How the hell do you know who I am anyway?"

"It's not important."

"It is to me. You said you knew my Dad. How?"

"We were on patrol together back when we were rookies. He was a friend. He used to talk about you all the time you know." he said hoping this would help calm the younger man down.

"I bet he did" Hanson replied laughing scornfully. "Tell you what a disappointing fuck up his kid was huh?"

"No he…"

"Shut up!" Hanson yelled at him. "You said you owed him? Why?" he asked, his voice once again quiet and calm.

"I got into some trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"This isn't the first time I've had dealings with Petrelli." he replied unable to meet the younger mans unnerving eyes.

"You were one of the guy's that worked on his case." Doug said with wide eyes. "You took backhanders last time too."

"I'm afraid I did. I had a family to support and I had debts coming out of my ears…."

"More excuses." Hanson seethed. "Why is it that it's only my excuses that don't hold weight huh?"

"You don't understand……"

"Oh I understand. You stood by and collected your money while innocent people were being hurt or even killed."

"I'm trying to explain…."

"There is no reason you can give for putting people's lives at risk."

"_Err Tommy? Pot, kettle, black!"_

"I know. Stop it." Hanson hissed under his breath.

"Tom? You ok?" Doug asked nervously watching his friend.

"Did my Dad know?" Tom asked looking directly at Mathews and ignoring his partner.

"Let me explain…"

"Did he know?" he pressed, the tone in his voice begging Mathews to deny it.

"He found out yeah."

"Hanson, there's something not right here." Doug called nervously from his place behind the counter.

"Shut up Doug." he snapped and turned his attention back to Mathews. "What did he do?"

"Nothing. He kept it quiet. When we were investigated after it came out some of the team were accepting bribes he told them he had no evidence of my involvement."

"They didn't think that all that money turning up in your account was a little suspicious?"

"He told them he loaned it to me."

"He lied?" Tom grinned, holding back hysterical laughter as one more of his illusions came crashing to the ground. His father, the man he had spent his whole life idolising, no better than he was. One more lie to add to all the others.

"Technically. Look kid, most of the guys on that team who took kickbacks ended up dead or in jail. Your Dad probably saved my life." Mathews replied. At that Hanson did burst into hysterics as Doug and Mathews watched on nervously.

"He lied." Tom repeated still choking back laughter. "How about that Doug. I'm a chip off the old block after all. So how come you got off scott free?"

"When your Dad found out he begged me to give the money back and walk away. Only I couldn't. I'd already used it to pay off the debts and keep a roof over our heads. I didn't know what to do. I was sure I was going to loose my family and my career. But Tom was amazing. He gave me the money to pay back Petrelli and keep him off my back."

"He was ok with what you did?" Tom asked, anger, grief and bewilderment twisting his youthful features. Mathews shook his head sadly.

"No. He said he didn't do it for me. He did it for my wife Shelly and Casey. He told me he was disgusted with me and felt bad for them because they deserved better. Told me to take the money and he didn't want to have anymore to do with me."

"Hanson, this isn't the time. I think we need to get out of here." Doug said becoming more agitated as he noticed the rising temperature.

"I thought I told you to be quiet." Hanson snapped before turning back to Mathews. "And after all that you just jumped right back into it?" Tom spat.

"It's not that simple. My wife and I had a little girl. She's sick, really sick," he said, anguished etched deeply into every line on his face. "Actually she's dying. And the medical help she needs doesn't come cheap. I had no other option." He shrugged sadly.

"There's always another choice." Hanson said quietly. "And on top of all this you dragged your son into this."

"Believe me, I've regretted it every moment since. Do you have kids?" Mathews asked looking into the distant eyes of his old friend's son. Hanson silently shook his head.

"I hope when you do you never have to make such a choice."

"So if your daughter needs you so badly why come back to help us? You know if we make it out of here you're going to prison for a long time." Tom asked, his manner considerably softer.

"Because I don't want anyone else hurt. And I guess it's time I paid for my mistakes."

Doug watched uncomfortably as some kind of understanding passed between them, hearing Tom's voice echo similar words in his head and remembering the sight of the gash on his wrist. Hanson just stood there deep in thought, not really seeming to notice they were there anymore. So, thinking that as he seemed calm enough, Doug decided this was the time to try and get through to him.

"Tom. Listen to me." Doug said calmly "I can smell gas."

"I know." he replied, sounding totally unconcerned. "They're gonna torch the place aren't they?" he finished as he turned to Mathews.

"You don't seem too bothered." Mathews replied anxiously.

"These things happen." he shrugged.

"You're not the slightest bit worried? You know after what's gone down tonight you're lucky to be alive."

"Lucky is the last thing I would call myself. Well, that and Gertrude, but that's a whole different set of issues." Tom laughed. "You may have forgotten but it's your buddies out there that decided to have a barbecue."

"I tried to talk him out of it."

"Of course you did." Tom chuckled. "Ok, you wanna help us so bad, what do you suggest?"

"Getting out of here would be a start."

"That's a brilliant idea. I don't think any of us would have thought of that one."

"Ok then. Let's hear what you've got."

"Get him on his feet" Hanson demanded, still with his gun trained on the older man, hoping that he was pointing at the right one of the four he was currently seeing. "Carefully."

Mathews pulled Doug to his feet as gently as he could taking as much of his weight as possible. Being larger and stronger than Hanson he was a much better support for Doug's ample frame, still the younger man let out small groans of pain as he was forced to apply pressure to his injured limbs, but by now he was too weak and worn out to really care.

"Ok. Now what are we going to do?" Mathews asked eying the younger and, he was almost certain by this point, crazy man with the firearm pointing straight at his chest. Hanson offered no reply and simply stood there with one injured hand holding his aching and spinning head the other still on the trigger.

"Well?" Mathews pushed.

"Shut up and let me think." he said wearily as he dropped the gun to his side.

He thought briefly about heading for the higher levels of the building, but Doug's condition didn't really allow for that option. It was around this time when they noticed smoke drifting through the cracks in the doorway.

"Tom, there's smoke coming in." Doug said weakly, trying to sound as calm as he could. "We need to move."

"We can go out the window. That way we won't get caught in the flames." Mathews said starting towards the side of the room.

"Oh yeah sure. Then all we have to worry about are your friends with all the big scary guns." Tom said, his voice dripping with bored sarcasm. "I don't know about you but I've had enough holes blown in me for one day."

"Fine. What's your plan?" Mathews asked impatiently. He regretted this however when he saw the sick and helpless look on the younger man's face. "Hey, I came here to help, let me help."

Hanson let his eyes drift over to the other two men and saw their expectant faces looking back at him. Damn them all to hell. Why was it that it was always down to him? Unable to think of any other option he looked back and smiled weakly.

"You came in the back way right?" he asked Mathews.

"That's right."

"Then we'll go out the back way."

"You sure that's the best way to go?"

"Fire's at the front of the building isn't it?"

"For now."

"So we go out the back." Tom stated as he staggered over to the other two men, taking his place on Doug's other side. "Unless you've got any better ideas?"

"Other than roasting in here? Not really." Mathews replied

"Well no time like the present." Tom said in what he thought was his most reassuring voice.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me." Doug said with a tired lopsided grin as he draped his arm round his friend's shoulders.

"I bet you did." Tom said through gritted teeth. Doug had no trouble noticing the anger and resentment in his voice. He felt more than useless as he hung like a dead weight between the other two. He wasn't used to having people taking care of him. It was usually him that fussed over others. First his younger brother, their parents being otherwise too preoccupied to deal with two young boys, then, in later years he supposed he'd found another kid brother in his partner, and he ached as he watched him labour under the burden of his injuries, those he could see and those he couldn't.

"So what's Petrelli up to?" Hanson asked as they made their slow way across the door.

"Trying to build his 'business' up again." Mathews answered simply.

"Is that what they call it?" Hanson scoffed. "Is it just guns he's into?"

"No. He's got a few narcotics deals going down too. He used to be big news down here you see. But then when they got on to him all those years back he lost a lot of his influence and most of his connection wouldn't deal with him anymore. Too risky you see."

"So how was he able to walk, you know silence all those witnesses?"

"People were still scared of him. He has, how shall I put it, a ruthless streak."

"Yeah I'd noticed that. But why use kids?"

"I thought you were supposed to be a detective?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do all these kids have in common?"

"They're all related to cops." Doug said suddenly.

"That's right." Mathews said. "Organised crime is a difficult business if you have nothing to hold over the law."

"Meaning if he goes down your kids go with him."

"Yeah." Mathews finished drawing another bark of scornful laughter from Hanson.

When they reached the door, Tom put out his hand to open it and snatched it back almost immediately with a hiss of pain.

"What is it?" Mathews asked urgently.

"The door's red hot." Tom replied looking at it thoughtfully.

"We could use one of those to cover the handle with." Doug's weak voice suggested as he nodded his head towards the remaining dust covers over the table.

"Oh fuck it!" Hanson shrugged and kicked out at the door as hard as he could sending it swinging back on its hinges.

As the door swung open they were met a by a rush of unbearable heat as the hallway was quickly filling with flames.

"I'm not going into that." Mathews said, his voice both scared and uncertain as he watched the flames consuming the front of the building..

"Fine stay here and burn." Tom shrugged, moving to support Doug more fully, "It's no skin off my nose. Might be quite a bit off yours though, and other places too."

"Hey this was your idea. We could have been out of here by now, but you had to deal with your daddy complex." Mathews snapped in the fragile man's face. "You got us into it, you get us out."

"Shut up." Doug yelled, his voice thick with panic. "Tom, don't listen to him. It's not your fault" then glaring at Mathews he spat, "Don't ever say anything like that to him again."

"He's crazy. He's completely lost his mind."

"You talk to him like that again, crippled or not, I'll rip your throat out." Doug spat from his place between his two companions. "Tom, you know that's not true."

"No Doug its fine. He's absolutely right." Tom said distantly with an unnerving smile playing on his lips. "But I'll get us out of it, don't you worry. I always do don't I? It's my job." he finished, the smile giving way to that blank look that had caused Doug so much worry recently. "So, which way is this back door?"

"Right this way." Mathews replied quietly, to Doug's relief, leading them away from the growing flames.

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Judy's anxiety was growing with every second as they neared their destination. She was running through all the possible scenarios in her mind and none of them ended well. She told herself over and over again that as long as Penhall and Hanson were together they'd take care of each other, but it did nothing to lessen the sick feeling in her stomach.

Fuller had spent most of the journey frantically redirecting every unit possible to the office complex and now Garrett was on his way with blue prints of the building and its future refurbishment, looking for extra bonus points Judy suspected.

Harry had been unusually quiet as he watched the approaching buildings deep in thought. Judy didn't have to wonder what he was thinking about, she had a pretty good idea.

"Where's those extra units I was promised?" Fuller was barking over the radio dragging Judy's attention back.

"_They're practically behind you Captain Fuller"_ the harassed voice of the on duty dispatch controller drifted over the airwaves. _"The nearest unit was only ten minutes away when we called them. And there's another two coming from Edison so sit tight, they'll be there."_

"Make sure they are." Fuller replied irritably as he rang off. He was used to being in control and having things out of his hands had never sat well with him, especially when two of his men were in danger.

"Do we know what we're doing or are we just going to wing this?" Judy asked glancing behind her making sure that Stanford and Jackson were still in sight. None of them really fancied their chances of sorting this alone.

"We cover all the exits, find out way in and bring them out. All we need are those plans so we know where they all are."

"And what about the others Petrelli has with him?" Harry said doubtfully.

"We bring down Petrelli and the rest will fall with him. I've seen it thousands of times before Harry. Big guys who are really cowards when it comes down to it. Not enough brains to be able to function without someone to follow."

"Somehow I don't think Petrelli and his pals are going to be an issue Captain." Ioki said in ominously dull tones as a sick look crossed his angular features. His Captain and his partner threw quick glances in his direction as he pointed to the building that had been their destination. "The place is burning."

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Their progress towards the back of the building was slow and laboured, the other two struggling under Penhall's increasingly dragging weight. They could feel the heat at their backs and their lungs were screaming for air. They had been forced to stop on numerous occasions as each was wracked by tremendous fits of coughing and dizziness, each attack causing waves of nausea and pain tearing through Hanson's tired frame and leeching the little remaining strength Doug had to spare. After one such pause Tom became increasingly worried about his partners condition. He had hardly spoken a word since they stepped out into the hallway, usually it was impossible to keep Doug quiet for more than thirty seconds, so this uncharacteristic silence was unsettling. He glanced across at his friend and saw that his face was drenched in sweat and twisted in agony and was sure he couldn't go on for much longer.

"How much further is it?" he asked the man supporting Doug on the other side.

"Not far, round the corner and we're there."

"I think we better stop." He said gesturing towards the guy sagging between them.

Mathews and Hanson slowly lowered Doug to the ground, coughing fiercely as they struggled for breath. Wiping his streaming eyes with the back of his tattered hands, Hanson knelt down in front of his partner. Doug was struggling for breath and clearly the loss of blood was beginning to take its toll. His face was waxen and the hand that was gripping Tom's arm was almost icy. Hanson inspected what he could make out of Doug's numerous wounds and shuddered when he noticed the heat coming from the leg he had tried so carefully to save. One look at it told him there was still a piece of the bullet in there, it must have hit the bone and shattered. Worse than that it was beginning to look infected.

"_Failed him again didn't you. You know nothing you can do will help him."_

"How you doing?" he asked, doing his best to ignore both the taunting voice and his fears for his friend, and grinning slightly to mask his unease at his partners condition as he looked into his glazed hazel eyes.

"Never better" came the weak reply.

"You're gonna be ok Doug. It's just a few more steps and then you'll be out of here."

"_And then what Tommy? You really think everything can just go back to how it was? You think they won't have you in a straight jacket the second you step out the door?_ _It's no less than you deserve. So what are you going to do now?"_

Looking back the way they had come everything suddenly became clear, and he knew exactly what he had to do. He turned to Mathews who was stood nervously beside the younger men.

"You'll get him straight to a hospital right?" he asked, his voice steady and completely calm.

"Sure. As soon as we can."

"Make sure he's taken care of."

"What, you're not coming?" Mathews laughed not sure what was happening.

"Tom, what the hell are you doing?" Doug asked in a shaky voice and tightening his hold on Tom's arm.

"I'm going back."

"What? Are you totally out of your mind?"

"How many times do we have to go through this? Look Doug, I'm done. I've had enough of pretending everything is ok. I'm through being strong and I'm through fighting. I want it over with."

"I'm not gonna let you do this." Doug replied, his voice shaking as he struggled to keep his weak and failing grip on Hanson's arm.

"Not much you can do to stop me." Tom told him with a sad smile playing on his lips. "Tell Judy I'm sorry ok?"

"Why don't you tell her yourself?" Doug said desperately, then lowering his voice, "Tom, don't listen to them."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. You don't have to listen to them."

"But they're right Doug."

"No!" Doug hissed. "Look you can fight this, I know you can."

"I've told you I'm done with fighting. Besides," he said, his usual warm smile spreading effortlessly across his face. "Even heroes have gotta loose sometimes."

"Don't do this."

"I told you I'm not worth trying to save."

"And I told you to me you are. Tom, I need you. We all do."

"No you don't. Look at your legs Doug."

"You didn't cause this." Penhall said, pleading eyes fixed on his friend.

"I'm sorry" he finished as he gently removed Doug's hand from his arm. As he got to his feet he turned to Mathews. "Get him out of here."

"Come with us." Mathews pleaded grabbing hold of the smaller man. Tom simply shook his head and tried to move past him. "Hey. He's your partner not mine. He's your responsibility" he hissed, hoping somehow to get through to his old friends troubled son.

"I'm done with responsibility too" Hanson said as he shrugged him off and began heading back into the building. Doug could only sit and watch as his troubled friend began to get further and further away from them. Realising he was fast running out of time he gathered all the strength he had to call out to him.

"TOMMY!" he yelled, his voice choked from the smoke gathering in his lungs. But Tom just kept on going not showing any sign that he had heard him calling. He felt angry and betrayed. After all they had been through, the secrets he had kept that ate at him, after trying so hard to help him, Tom was going to just walk away and leave him.

Doug looked up desperately at Mathews who stooped down and began pulling Doug to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Doug asked him in disbelief. "Go and fucking stop him." he yelled in frustration.

"Look, we have to get out of here and there isn't much time. He made his choice."

"He didn't make any choice. He has no idea what he's doing."

"What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself. He's nuts. He's not capable of making any decision." Doug yelled. "You said his father saved your life. Is this how you're going to repay him? By watching and doing nothing while his only kid burns." Doug said looking up into the older man's face. "He's going to die if you don't stop him."

"Oh shit." Mathews yelled in frustration as he raked his hands through his hair while his eyes darted between the door, the young officer on the floor beside him and the retreating figure of Hanson. Exchanging one last glance with the injured man sat before him he sprang to his feet and ran after the dark haired figure slowly disappearing into the distance.

Being severely hampered by his injuries Hanson was making very slow progress and it wasn't long before he felt someone grab hold of him from behind. He spun round coming face to face with his dad's old friend.

"Let me go." he said, his voice calm and cold.

"I can't do that kid."

Just then, due to the heat building upside, the skylights that ran the length of the hallway began to crack and shatter sending glass showering down. Mathews, tightening his hold on him, dragged Hanson to the ground and after a brief struggle found himself looking up into the young officer's face as once again he aimed his gun at his chest.

"Why can't you all just let me go?"

Mathews gazed up at him and as he did he was suddenly sure that Hanson had no intention of firing his gun. There was no anger in Tom's eyes, none of the hatred in his voice that had surfaced as he had held Doug at knifepoint. All he saw was someone who was completely spent and wasted. Someone who just wanted all the pain and suffering to end. He could see the desperation in the younger mans eyes and realised that the kid knew exactly what he was doing. However underneath all that he could see the other part that was silently begging him to help. It was this part he needed to get through to.

"You don't want to do this. This isn't the only way out Tom." he said calmly, getting to his feet.

"It's the only way to end this. Now move out the way and let me go."

"No ones going anywhere" came a shaky and very nervous voice from behind them. Both men spun sharply and were met by the last thing they thought they would have seen.

Casey Moore was stood beside the doorway dragging a pale and fading Doug Penhall to his feet while holding a gun to the young officer's head. Mathews recognised it as the one he had dropped what now seemed like years ago.

"Casey, what are doing?" Mathews asked the boy in obvious panic.

"What you should have done," he replied, his hands and voice shaking uncontrollably.

"Son, you don't have to do this."

"Don't talk to me." he said, edging closer to tears with every word. He was struggling to hold the significantly larger man, but Doug was fading fast and had very little strength to fight back. Pain and panic was evident in his face and his eyes stared pleadingly towards the two other men.

"Doug, look at me." Hanson said urgently bringing his partners fevered gaze to rest on him. "You're going to be ok."

"Don't talk to him either. I mean it." the young boy yelled as he tightened his grip on the gun he now held beneath Doug's chin.

"We're going to get you out of here Doug, I promise."

"_Lies, lies and more lies."_

"SHUT UP!" Tom yelled clenching his fists, drawing more blood from his injured hands and causing the other three to stare at him in alarm. "I can't deal with you right now. Leave me alone." he continued, smacking the heel of his hand against his head.

"_You've sent your best friend to his death Tommy. How does that feel."_

"I won't let him die. I won't" he began chanting under his breath as he tried to shut it out.

"What's going on?" Casey asked looking nervously at the young dark haired officer who was now starting to shake uncontrollably.

"He's not well Casey." Doug said weakly as he sagged in the boys surprisingly vice like grip. "You have to let us out of here."

"Tell him to put that gun down. I'm not having some head case waving a gun at me."

"Casey…" Mathews began to plead.

"Make him put it down." Casey shouted to his stepfather as he tightened his grip on the gun. "Do it.!"

"Tommy? Can you hear me?" Mathews asked tentatively. But the younger man seemed not to hear him, staring into nothing while his lips moved soundlessly.

"_You can't save him sport. I'm sorry."_

"Tom!" Doug's faint voice drifted through the muddle and snapped him back. "Put the gun down."

Telling himself that Doug needed him to get a grip Tom shook his head and his glassy eyes met Casey's stare.

"Tom it's ok. Do as he says." Doug finished his pain and fear evident in his every breath.

"Let him go." Tom said softly as he placed his gun on the floor, his hands still unsteady and his voice not quite controlled.

"No. I can't."

"What exactly are you going to do here kiddo?" Mathews asked, trying calm the boy down.

"We're going to get rid of these two, walk out of here and pretend none of this ever happened"

"You really think you can do that?" the older man said gently.

"I can try." the scared teen replied.

"People like Petrelli don't let you just walk away." Tom added.

"He's going to have to." Casey said, sounding totally unconvincing.

"You don't have it in you Casey. Come on, let him go and we'll work something out." Mathews begged.

"There's nothing to work out. He knows how to get Mom and Annie. Did you think about that while you were in here playing hero?"

"Nothing's going to happen to them. I promise."

"And how are you going to stop him?" Casey yelled, close to tears. "I'm not going to let anything happen to them, so if you won't finish this I will."

"You don't really want this Casey. Come on, let him go." Tom said softly

"How do you know what I want? You don't know me."

"I know you're not a killer."

"_And you'd know all about that wouldn't you? How much innocent blood has stained your hands sport"_

Through the mist that was quickly descending on his tired mind he heard Mathews still pleading with his distraught stepson.

"I'm sorry Casey. I should never have gotten you involved."

"Maybe not. The funny thing is I enjoyed it."

Tom eyes snapped open and he stared directly at the young boy.

"You enjoyed it?" he snapped in disbelief.

"Have you any idea what it's like being kicked and pushed around all the time because you happen to be smaller and weaker than everyone else? Why should people like Tyler have all the power and respect just because they have more muscle than brains? I'm sick of it. Well now I know how it feels to have power and respect. These gave it to me" he said waving the gun towards them.

"Yeah, it feels good doesn't it?" Tom said moving slowly towards the boy. "But is it worth it Casey? Is it really worth ruining innocent people's lives?"

"Stop it."

"How many of these kids you hooked up with these things do you think have used them on someone else? How many lives do you think you could have spared? Can you live with the possibility that you might be responsible for that?"

"Yes." he replied unconvincingly.

"Listen to me Casey. I know exactly what it's like, and nothing is worth that, believe me."

"How could you possibly know?"

"I know what it's like to not be able to defend yourself, to not be strong enough." he said, his words making Doug shudder as he remembered Hanson's awful admission as he stood there holding a knife to his throat. "But it doesn't give you the right to take lives Casey."

"I'm sorry, but I have to what I have to do."

"Casey, son, the place is on fire. If we don't get out of here soon, we're all going to burn." Mathews pleaded.

"If that's the way it has to be." Casey replied shakily.

"Right that's enough." Tom said calmly, "We've asked you nicely, now let him go or I swear to God I'll grab that gun and shoot you right here and now."

"You wouldn't."

"Don't push me Casey. I've been responsible for the deaths of better people than you." Hanson said softly, a strange smile playing on his lips. "I've been looking for a reason to blow someone away for months. You'll do as well as any."

"Well I guess you're going to have to aren't you, because I won't let anything happen to my family even if he will." he said pointing towards his stepfather. "And if I have to kill him to do that then that's the way it's got to be."

"Casey, we can find another way." Mathews said.

"Don't talk to me anymore."

"What do you think it will do to your mother it you kill him?"

"She'll understand I did for her and Annie. She'll know it was for the best."

"You really believe that? Come on kiddo, you know better than that. Just give me the gun and let him go."

As Mathews pleaded with his stepson Hanson looked at the scared face of his best friend, the sallow sheen to his skin and the glazed look in his eyes. He saw the sweat pouring form his brow and the way he was shaking as the boy struggled to keep him upright and knew that if he didn't get him out of here soon it was going to be too late.

"_Are you going to let this happen? He's the only one who gives a damn about you. He's the only one who believes in you. Are you going to let him take that from you?"_

His eyes flickered around the room in desperation. Why was no one coming? Surely someone would have seen the flames. Why wasn't Fuller wandering what had happened to them?

"_They don't care Tommy. It's all down to you now. Only you can't save him can you? You've always been weak and pathetic."_

While Casey was distracted by his stepfather, Hanson took his chance. He dived at the boy, sending them both and Doug crashing to the floor. The gun flew out of Casey's hand and skidded across the ground. Ignoring the pain this caused him, Tom scrambled over to where it lay, picked it up and spun round training it on their young assailant. As he did he was stunned to find that the boy now held the very knife that Doug had ripped from his grasp not too long ago. This knife was now pressed against his partner's throat. He gazed in silent horror as the boy stared wild eyed back at him.

"I warned you!" Casey screamed

"Casey don't" Mathews yelled as he pulled his hand back to draw it across Penhall's exposed throat. Hanson felt paralysed with fear. Then, as if someone else was using his hand, he saw the gun point straight at the boy's chest and saw his finger pull back the trigger. The sound of the weapon firing came to his ears as if they were muffled by cotton wool and suddenly everything moved in slow motion. He saw the boy jerk backwards and the knife fall from his hand as he fell to the floor. He watched as Doug crumbled in a lifeless heap on the ground beside him. Still gripped by that eerie calmness he began to stumble over to the still figures, moving as if he was wading through thick treacle, unable to grasp what he had done. When he reached the form of Casey Moore he fell to his knees and stared, numb, at the child lying before him. He gazed in fascination at the small bloody hole in the boy's chest and reached his hand out to touch the blood that was seeping out so quickly that it was already pooling behind him. He examined the bullet wound, confusion and disbelief fogging his mind. It was such a small hole, how could there be so much blood? He gently lifted the boy and was mildly surprised when he saw his back was saturated with blood. The bullet had shot straight through and the exit wound was huge.

"Casey?" he heard Mathews shaky voice from behind him.

Hanson reached out and placed his bloody fingers on the boy's neck searching for a pulse but not able to find one. Not even a trace. He turned and looked up at the older man, his eyes wide and confused flitting between the blood on his hands and the anguished gaze of the man stood over him.

"He's dead." he said, his voice dull and toneless. He kept thinking he should say how sorry he was, that he didn't mean for it to happen. Only he couldn't. It would sound like a lie even to himself. So he just watched, his eyes indifferent, as the older man fell to his knees in shock and grief.

"I killed him." he said trying to make it sink in, trying to force some kind of remorse.

He couldn't believe it. He stared at the smoking gun in his hand as the echo of the sound of it firing rang in his ears. He could hear Mathews calling his stepson's name, his voice thick with anguish, but it seemed as if it was coming from a million miles away. It could have been coming from the other side of the world for all the attention Hanson paid it. It seemed unimportant. All that mattered to him right at that moment was that he had killed someone. He was a murderer, just as they all said he was. Only this time is wasn't some bent cop who had been fuelling gang wars. No. It was a 17 year old kid. He kept waiting for something to happen. For sirens to wail and some face in a uniform to snap handcuffs on his wrists and lead him away. For his mind to explode or his heart to burst out of his chest. He expected the world to fall down around his ears and the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He expected some sort of recrimination from the constant companions that had been gnawing at his mind, but even they seemed to have gone quiet and left him. There was nothing, only that awful calm emptiness, that numbness that wouldn't quite let it sink in. Even while staring at the blood on his hands he couldn't quite make it real. His eyes followed the bright red liquid as it ran over his fingers, trying to work out whether it was real or just the phantom of the blood he'd been seeing all too often. There was so much of it. He didn't think he'd ever seen as much blood.

"Tom?" he heard a weak voice seeping through the fog that seemed to surround him. He slowly turned his dreamlike gaze to find the source of the familiar voice.

"Doug. Are you ok?" he asked softly as he crawled over to his friend.

"I don't think so."

"It's ok, we'll get you out of here, and you'll be fine."

"I know." Doug said weakly. "Casey?"

"He's gone." Hanson replied, his voice dull and emotionless.

"It's over?"

"Yeah, it's over."

"Tom…"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I'm going to make it."

"Don't talk like that. I told you'll be fine." Even as the words left his lips he saw Doug's eyes flutter and close, his breathing rapid and shallow. "Doug!" he called desperately shaking his partner, paying no attention to the sobbing of James Mathews as he held his stepson in his arms. "Doug,, you have to stay with me. I need you. You said you'd help me, remember? You promised."

Suddenly he heard the familiar sounds of sirens and his eyes were pierced by bright flashing lights as they flooded in through the dusty windows.

"I told you it would be ok Doug." he said pulling his unconscious friend into his arms. "They're here Doug, they're coming."

He was still staring shell shocked at the bloody form the dead boy when the doors opened and the figures of Adam Fuller, Judy Hoffs and Harry Ioki burst into the building.


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry it's been awhile again. This chapter drove me mad and i've rewritten it about 10 times. Hope you like folks.**

**Andaere - thanks so much for all your encouraging comments. I'm so thrilled you're still enjoying this. And don't worry I love long reviews :0)**

**Debbiets - lol sorry, maybe I should provide free tissues with that story. Glad you enjoyed it. My english teacher always drilled it into me how imagery was important so I guess I should hunt her down and thank her :0)**

**Incfinger - lol yep he's got a few screws loose. Glad you're still reading xx**

**LibraryTech - as always thank you xx Ghostwriter too xx**

**Rubydoo - ahh the pressure (tears hair out through stress ;0) ) Ok as i like sundaes and cherries you may have an update xx**

Tom had tried so hard to wipe that scene from his memory, but it seemed that it had been tattooed forever on the inside of his eyelids. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that poor boy lying dead in his stepfather's arms. Dead by his hand. And seeing that picture it kept coming back to the same awful fact. He had taken someone's life. He didn't just feel responsible, he hadn't just played his part in the events leading up to the kid's death, he had actually pulled the trigger. When he had seen that boy lying there he hadn't looked like some dangerous criminal, he wasn't a coke dealer, he wasn't pushing heroine and he hadn't mugged or killed anyone. He wasn't Bud Tower or Raymond Crane. He wasn't one of those hungry eyed, leering inmates that had made his life a living hell all those months. Christ, he wasn't anywhere near Ronnie Seeboks league. He'd looked just like what he was, just a child in over his head and trying to do what he thought was right. A child with his whole life in front of him and he had taken that life without a second thought. He'd just pulled the trigger, blown the kid away and now he could never take that back.

He thought back to the kid he had been at that age. Would he have shot that boy? Would he have just let Doug die instead? Whatever the answer might have been it didn't make much difference now. Tommy was long gone, as was that overeager uptight rookie that had first walked up those familiar steps all those years ago. He wouldn't have killed that kid, that was certain. He'd have clipped his arm or his shoulder, not aimed straight for the kill. But _he_ had. So what was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to live with that?

Once again he could feel the tears struggling to form in his eyes. He knew they should come, that they should be flowing like a river, he wanted them to. So many times over the last few years he had wanted those tears to fall. Had he cried for Amy? He couldn't remember. He had watched her die in front of him and had felt nothing but useless guilt and self pity. He had listened to them telling him that Kenny Wheckerly had died and had said how sorry he was, feeling somehow it was because of him. More guilt, but at least it was something. He had watched them put Ronnie down like a dog and had felt absolutely nothing. He had cried then, so why wouldn't the tears fall now? But he knew that even if they did he wouldn't be crying for Casey Moore. He knew he wouldn't be crying for the boy's family. Just as they had told him before, those tears would be for him, because when it came down to it he didn't feel sorry, he didn't feel sad or even guilty. He felt nothing. When he could bring himself to admit it he knew that those tears probably wouldn't come, because if was being honest with himself he had nothing left to give. They were right. He was hollow and empty, completely used and wasted.

And then there was Doug. His partner. His best friend. His brother, who was now lying in a hospital fighting to survive. The guy who had done nothing but care for him and look out for him, possibly dying all because of his stupid selfish mistakes. How had things got so far. He had always been taught that if you do the right thing and fight for what you believe in every thing would turn out for the best. Only doing what he thought was the right thing had caused nothing put pain, confusion and anguish and what he believed in had turned out to be nothing but a hopeless lies as empty as he was. How was he ever going to fix this? Really he supposed the right question was did he really want to fix this?

What was worse was the fact that no one seemed to hold him responsible. The kid knew what he was getting into they had all told him. They had simply gone fussing around him and trying to make sure he was ok, when it was even obvious to him that he wasn't. Being so careful and understanding towards him when he couldn't even bring himself to look at them, being too scared of what he would see in their eyes if he did. In fact he had been so intent on the still figure with the hole in his chest he hadn't noticed the wailing of the squad cars as they raced up or even when Judy had come up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

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The parking lot outside the burning building turned into a desperate hive of activity as it was washed with the lights of the approaching police cars, their sirens blazing as they descended. The three of Petrelli's 'crew' still remaining, Marley, Bradwell and Miller sprang into action as they bolted across the ground as quickly as they could, heading for refuge. Unfortunately for them they weren't quick enough. Before they had gotten too far they ran smack into the imposing figures of Stanford and Jackson, and were horrified to find their retreat was cut off as the other units Fuller had frantically redirected pulled up behind them.

"Surprise fella's." Stanford grinned as he watched their back up jump out of their cars and snap cuffs on the three bent cops. "You're all under arrest. Take this pond scum where they belong" he finished, glancing at the arriving backup as he shoved his gun back into its holster and watched the three men being led away towards the waiting squad cars. Then he turned to his young partner with a slight look of irritation. "You wanna get the fire service and an ambulance down here kid?" he said with raised eyebrows and gesturing towards the burning building.

"Oh, yeah sure" Jackson replied nervously before heading back towards their unit and radioing for help, Stanford watching after him with a small smile on his pleasant, if somewhat haggard face.

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As soon as the car had come to a stop, Fuller, Ioki and Hoffs jumped out and raced straight towards the burning building, looking in horror at the flames as they rose higher and higher.

"They're in there?" Harry asked in disbelief as he looked up at the flames that were fast devouring the building.

"They must be, I don't see them out here." Judy said glancing round in a desperate panic, hoping that somehow if she looked for long enough she would catch sight of her two friends, probably with matching idiotic grins enjoying the fuss made in their honour, but it was not to be. "Captain, they don't stand a chance in there." she said to her commanding officer in a low voice as he studied the sight before him.

"Well their chances aren't getting any better. Ioki!" Fuller called. "Grab Stanford and Jackson and take the front. Hoff's with me." He finished as he sped off towards the back of the building, Judy following fast on his heels.

Catching sight of Fuller and Hoffs racing over the parking lot Stanford and Jackson quickly made their way over to Ioki.

"Ambulance and fire department are on their way." Jackson told him as they approached. "What's going on?"

"We're pretty sure the others are in there." Harry said absently as he surveyed the front of the imposing structure.

"How many?" Stanford asked.

"Can't say for sure." Harry replied, sounding tired and strung out. "Penhall and Hanson, I'm sure. As for the others I don't know. There were only three out here right?"

"Yeah. All safely tucked in and ready to go."

"Without knowing how many were in that car with them we can't be sure how many are in there."

"They wouldn't light it with their own guys inside would they?" Jackson asked with wide eyed disbelief.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But standing round here isn't helping those inside, however many there are." Harry said determinedly.

"So what's the plan?" Stanford asked.

"We go in and get them." He finished as he ran towards the flames with Stanford and Jackson following fast behind him. Ripping off their now rain soaked jackets they placed them over their heads, shielding their faces with their arms and edged closer to the doorway.

"You'd think all this rain would do something about these flames huh?" Jackson shouted as they carefully fought their way through.

"That would be too easy kid." his partner responded with an ironic grin.

Suddenly the load bearing support over the door creaked and before they had chance to register what was happening the whole of the doorway caved in and was totally engulfed in flames. The three officers looked on in horror, the intense heat beating at their faces.

"We gotta get back." Stanford yelled pulling at the two who were still stood frozen looking at the wreckage.

"No!" Harry yelled pulling out of his grip. "My friends are in there."

"You can't do anything from here. The flames are too strong." Stanford tried to reason with him. Harry just ignored him and his eyes widened in hope as he spotted the broken window that Mathews and Marley had used to gain entrance. He turned to the other two officers with steely determination on his face.

"Give me your jackets." He demanded holding out his hands for them.

"What are you going to do?" Jackson asked suspiciously.

"I'm going in."

The two officers exchanged a glance and, with a shrug of resignation, handed over the jackets. Ioki put on his own now saturated jacket, placed one over his head and gripped one in his hand and ran back towards the fire.

Using the jacket in his hands Harry tried his best to beat back the flames that were licking at his legs and outstretched arms and scorching his face despite his makeshift protection. But it was no use. The more he fought the more they seemed to fight back. He was just about to dive through the broken window when he was grabbed roughly from behind. He found himself on the floor being held by both Stanford and Jackson, both looking up in horror as the front of the building began to crumble. Ioki jumped up and with a wordless cry tried to fight his way back, only to be restrained once again by the two uniformed officers.

"Look, it's no use. If they're in there they've had it, there's nothing we can do. Wait for the fire department." Stanford yelled in his face before a loud crash from behind them sent all their heads spinning round to find the force. They sat their in awe while the glass from the exploding windows flew in the heated air around them.

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When Fuller and Hoffs reached the back of the building to their relief they found that the fire didn't seem to have spread that far yet. The front of the building looked like the sight of missile attack, but the back seemed relatively unscathed.

"If the fire was confined to the front they would have headed back here wouldn't they?" Judy asked glancing pleadingly at her commanding officer.

"Let's hope so."

"They're not as stupid as they look." Judy said with a hopeful smile on her face.

"Only one way to find out." Fuller replied as he reached out to open the back door.

The handle was red hot and they exchanged a look of unspoken fear as they realised what that could mean. Shaking off his fear Fuller ran full pelt at the door almost popping it off its hinges as it flew open. With Judy close behind they carefully entered the wide hallway. At first all they noticed was the intense heat and the dense smoke that was obscuring their vision and stinging their eyes. Then, as she covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve, almost choking on the smoke, Judy's watering dark eyes spotted a dim figure through the mist.

"Captain!" she bellowed, her voice strangled, but sounding urgent nonetheless. "Over here."

Fuller's head shot round and he followed her to the curled figure on the floor. As they got nearer they realised it wasn't just one figure but two. One was sat staring blankly and holding the other in shaking arms. Fuller began to scan the rest of the area while Judy went to Hanson's side.

"Oh my god, Hanson!" Judy gasped in relief at the sight of her friend, that relief was short lived however when she recognised the still figure of Doug Penhall lying unconscious in Tom's lap. She saw the blood on his legs and the way he was shivering and desperate panic swept through her in waves. She placed a tentative hand on Hanson's shoulder and bent knelt down to look at him. "Hanson?". No reply. "Hanson, what's happened?" she said again when he showed no sign of acknowledging her. Hoffs reached out and checked for Doug's pulse and felt some of the tension drain out of her when she located a weak but steady rhythm and saw the slight rise and fall of his chest. Even so, just from first glance, even with the small amount of light drifting into the room, she knew it was bad and that the sooner they got him out of here the better.

"Captain!" she yelled, "Doug's hurt bad. How long has he been like this?" She asked glancing up at Tom. There was still no reply and her insides twisted as she watched his blank stare. Her mind shot back to the last time she had spoken to him, to his asking what she saw in his eyes. She had lied, because she didn't know who she saw, because recently there were times when she saw absolutely nothing in those dark orbs. She moved to kneel in front of him and for an instant, looking at those far away and glazed eyes she had the horrific feeling that he wasn't in there, that he had gone. She heard Fuller coming up behind her and heard his involuntary gasp at the sight of the two young men but she was totally focused on her partners. She followed Tom's gaze and saw the other two occupants of the room. Turning to Fuller she pointed in their direction and he immediately raced over to them.

"Hey are you hurt?" Fuller asked Mathews as he reached him, before kneeling down to inspect the young boy lying at the man's feet. He felt for a pulse and finding none, exchanged a helpless glance with Judy while shaking his head.

"He really is dead isn't he?" Mathews asked bringing Fuller's attention back to him.

"I'm sorry." Fuller replied. "Captain Adam Fuller." he said gently as he showed Mathews his badge. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you a few questions. But first we've got to get you all out of here."

"Of course."

"Did you know him?" Fuller said softly gesturing to the deceased teen. Mathews slowly nodded his head.

"Casey's my stepson." he replied through the intake of deep breaths.

"You're Officer Mathews?"

"Yeah. I should have kept him away. This is going to destroy my wife and it's all my fault."

"Come on," Fuller said gently placing an arm round Mathews shoulder, "We need you get you out."

"What about Casey?" he asked desperately, "I can't just leave him."

"He's gone. I'm sorry, but we can't do anything for him now. If you stay here much longer your wife is going to lose both of you."

Judy could hear them talking in hurried desperate voices, picking up harsh gasping breaths in one of them as if he had been sobbing. But that didn't concern her, all she was concerned with were her two friends. Reaching her hands up she placed them on each side of Hanson's face and forced his eyes to look in her direction. His face was filthy and covered with soot from the smoke, there was drying blood covering most of his forehead and the right side of his face like some grotesque Halloween mask and more blood matted in his overgrown straggly hair, and he was breathing in harsh rapid gasps.

"Hanson!" she said sharply, "How long has Doug been like this?" she finished and let out breath she had realised she was holding when she heard his cracked and strangled voice.

"I don't know." he replied as his eyes seemed to clear, as if was waking up. "I tried to stop the bleeding, but the bullet must have shattered and there's still some in there." he finished, still sounding too faraway for Judy's liking.

"Tom, what happened?" she asked softly.

"I shot him." He said dully.

"You shot Doug!" Judy yelped in horror. Hanson shook his head and pointed towards where Fuller was stood trying to coax Mathews into helping them with Doug.

"I warned him, but he wouldn't listen." Hanson said, the calm dreamlike demeanour being replaced by panic. "There was nothing else I could do." he finished, more to convince himself than the young woman knelt before him.

"It's ok Hanson. We can sort this out later, but we have to go now. Ok?"

"No it's not. I can't see how it will ever be ok."

"Come on, we've gotta get out of here before the whole place goes up." she said glancing uneasily between him and the unconscious Doug, her first priority to get them out before anything else happened. "Captain!" she yelled urgently. "I need some help over here."

Fuller's head snapped round at the sound of Judy's voice and he quickly turned back to Mathews. "Can you help us with them?" he asked gesturing towards the others. "Doug's kind of a big guy and I don't think we can leave Hoffs to haul him out." he said trying to keep the other man calm.

"Sure." he said and followed Fuller over to where Doug was laying. Without sparing a glance for Hanson, Mathews took hold of Doug under his arms while Fuller, who tried to smile reassuringly at Hoffs and Hanson, carefully took hold of his legs as they slowly and gently lifted him from the floor. Tom just sat as still as stone and watched as the two men carried Doug towards the exit, not seeming to notice the smoke now filling the room, or how fast the temperature was rising. Judy placed a hand on his arm and spoke softly to him.

"Come on, we have to go."

"Ok, sure." he replied distantly as she put an arm around his waist and draped his arm around her shoulders before pulling him to his feet. They were both coughing harshly now and their eyes were streaming from the stinging smoke, making it difficult to see exactly where they were going. Hanson was leaning on her heavily and she was struggling to keep them both on their feet, but Judy followed doggedly behind Fuller reminding herself that every step was a step towards safety and help for her injured friends. The truth be told she was clinging to Hanson as desperately as he was clinging to her. She had been worried about him for sometime now and what she had seen so far did nothing to ease her fears as they headed towards the pale light drifting through the open door.

Once out in the open air, Fuller and Mathews carried Doug to a safe distance before lowering him gently to the floor. Fuller heard the sound of sirens blaring in the background and immediately turned to Judy, who was lowering a violently coughing and shaking Hanson beside his unconscious partner.

"Hoffs, watch them." he ordered, "I'm going to get the paramedics round here. I don't want to risk carrying Doug any further."

"Sure Captain, I'll watch them." she smiled weakly, as she held a shaking Hanson, whose eyes were fixed on Doug's still form. Then she watched with a sense of unease as Fuller dragged Mathews off in the direction of the waiting squad cars with the noise of the ambulance and fire engine ringing in their ears.

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Before long Judy stood outside, her and Ioki flanking Hanson, all wrapped in blankets as the rain still poured down on them. All of them so wet that they hardly noticed it anymore, seeing for the first time the extent of the damage the fire had caused at this end of the tall office building as the fire fighters doused the flames. The fire was finally under control, but the area was still a hive of activity as police officers and paramedics raced round questioning and tending to those present. Thanks to Doug the gunshot wound on Hanson's arm showed no sign of infection and was now bandaged and resting in sling to stem the blood flow. The deep gash on his head had been cleaned and dressed as best the paramedics could, the previously white gauze now dark red, but they had informed him and his partners that it would require stitches and they were all to go to the hospital to be checked over for smoke inhalation. So the three officers waited and watched as the seemingly lifeless form of Doug Penhall was carried over to the waiting ambulance, it's flashing lights illuminating the whole area. When Hanson saw Doug being loaded into the back of the ambulance Judy tried to restrain him as he darted towards his friend but her grip wasn't strong enough and she and Harry were only able to follow behind as he staggered through the rain. When he reached the ambulance he stared in horror at the still and pale figure lying on the stretcher.

"Doug?" Hanson said tentatively as he took his best friends hand. Doug moaned slightly and his eyes struggled open.

"Hanson?"

"Doug, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"What's happening?"

"It's ok Doug." Judy said rushing forward. "The ambulance is here and they're going to take you to hospital" Doug gave her a weak smile and turned his attention back to Hanson.

"Casey?" he asked in a cracked whisper. Harry and Judy watched Hanson's face closely as he answered.

"He's dead." he replied blankly.

"So it's really over?"

"Yeah, it's over."

"I'm sorry but we really have to get him in the ambulance." came the soft hesitant voice of one of the paramedics.

"Sure." Harry replied. "Hanson, come on let them get him inside." he continued as he and Judy took hold of Tom's arms and gently prised him back from the stretcher.

"We'll see you soon Doug." Judy called out trying to sound as cheerful as possible as her voice shook. She led Hanson away, leaving Harry alone watching them load Doug into the ambulance. As they lifted him, Harry heard Doug's voice weakly calling to him.

"What is it?" he asked climbing up beside him.

"What happened to Casey?"

"Don't worry about that now. Just worry about getting well ok."

"Harry, tell me." Doug pleaded, his fever bright eyes fixed on Harry, who swallowed nervously before answering.

"He had a knife to your throat, he was going to kill you."

"I know Harry, I was there. How did he die?"

"Hanson shot him." Harry replied and watched as Doug's eyes screwed shut and he let out a pained groan.

"Jesus Christ." He breathed hoarsely. "Why did it have to be him? What are we going to do Harry?"

"You're not going to do anything but let these guys take care of you."

"Harry, he's not well." he whispered, sending shudders down Harry's spine as he remembered Tom's drunken admission to hearing voices that weren't there.

"Doug, what do you know?" Harry asked urgently. "What did he tell you?"

"I'm sorry but we really have to get going. If your friend is coming with us he'll have to come now" the paramedic stated, his patience seemingly running thin.

"Right, sure." Harry said distantly watching Doug before heading over to where Judy was stood with Hanson, trying to get him to agree to go to hospital, urging him on like a mother would a stunned and distraught child, her voice soothing and crooning as she spoke to him.

"They want to leave now Hanson." Harry said walking up to them. "You better go or you're going to miss you ride." he finished attempting a cheerful manner.

"What are they doing with Doug? Where are they taking him?" Hanson asked, still sounding a million miles away.

"They're taking him to hospital, and you're not going to be far behind him." Judy said firmly.

"I'm ok." he replied.

"No you're not. Tom, you've been shot, you need a doctor." Harry reasoned.

"NO!" he snapped. "I'm not going near any doctors."

"You're bleeding too much Hanson, and they can't treat you properly here." Judy told him in that soothing tone.

"I don't care. I know what will happen if you get me into a hospital. I'll never leave. They'll put me away." he said, the eerie dreamlike state giving way to desperate agitation. "Don't let them, please."

"No one's going to put you anywhere." Judy told him, becoming distressed herself at what might be happening to this man who meant the world to her. "Tom, what's going on?"

"I don't know." he replied sounding terrified.

"Hanson, do you trust me?" she asked softly, once again placing her hands on each side of his face and forcing him to look at her.

"Yeah, of course I do." he said, his eyes turning to face her as if he has only just realised she was there.

"Nothing is going to happen, I promise. Just let the doctors check you out ok?"

"Ok." he shakily and allowed her to take his hand and lead him over to the waiting paramedics. As she did so he let out a small hiss of pain and, her face full of concern she turned it gently over and examined the cuts. She had seen the blood on his hands but had thought it was either Doug's blood or that of the dead boy, but looking closer she could see the pieces of glass that were still imbedded in his skin.

"What did you do to your hands?"

"Glass." he shrugged. "It's ok, it doesn't hurt."

"But there's so much blood."

"It's not all mine." he shrugged, looking in fascination at his injured hands while Judy and Harry eyed him nervously, trying to make sense of his rapidly changing moods.

"Come on." Judy said decisively, gesturing to Harry to grab hold of Tom's other arm.

But before they could he backed away, his eyes wide and staring as all the colour drained from his face. Suddenly he couldn't see Judy and Harry anymore, and in their place were huge bulky shadowed figures that were slowly advancing towards him. Thinking that this was it, they were actually coming to take him away he backed away he tripped and stumbled and was saved from falling only by his friends quick reactions. Feeling the touch of their hands he twisted and shook in their grasp it wasn't until Judy's distressed voice called to him and he opened his eyes to see their faces that he stopped his struggling.

"What's wrong?" Harry's harassed voice asked.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Tom replied weakly as he sagged between them, close to where Fuller stood talking to a shell shocked James Mathews.

"As I already said, he had the knife to his throat." Mathews said quietly.

"So you'd say he was threatening your lives?" Fuller asked calmly.

"He isn't….wasn't a bad kid" he choked. "Look, I've told everything that happened to your Bruce Lee wannabe over there. What more can I tell you?" Mathews snapped, getting more and more agitated.

"I know this is a difficult time for you" Fuller said gently, "but there are things you're going to have to help us with."

"Like what?"

"We need you to identify Anthony Petrelli for us."

"I can't do that."

"Why are you protecting this guy? He may not have pulled the trigger but it's because of him that your kid is dead."

"I know that Captain Fuller. But I can't ID him. He isn't here."

"What?"

"He must have disappeared before the fire started. You're better off questioning the others."

"And the other officers he had working for him, Nicholls, Backer and Storey?"

"My guess is if you find them you'll find Petrelli."

"And if we do would you be willing to testify against them?"

"Only if you guarantee my wife and daughter will be safe."

"We'll do everything we can." Fuller said solemnly.

"And what about me? I'm in trouble here aren't I?"

"I think you know the answer to that one."

"If I tell all I know, about Petrelli, his businesses and everyone I know working for him, do I get some kind of deal?"

"Maybe."

"Look, sir, my little girl is serious ill, my wife needs me."

"Funny you should think about that now."

"Look what if I could tell you where you could intercept a massive shipment of heroin and hand you a drug baron called Marcus Donahue? Would that improve my chances?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested."

"So you might be able to pull some strings?"

"I can't promise you anything. That will be up to the DA."

"Put in a good word for me?"

"Sure. Do you want us to contact your wife?" he asked kindly.

Mathews gave no reply, but simply stared horrified and grief stricken as he watched the fire fighters carry the lifeless form of his stepson from the charred and ruined building.

"Oh god!" he whimpered as he made his way over to the slow moving group.

"I'm sorry sir, but you can't be here." one of the uniformed men informed him.

"It's ok." Fuller barked coming up behind him. "He's the kid's father." he continued, conveniently leaving out the fact he was only his stepfather. "Can he have a moment?"

"Ok." he said quietly in the voice most people usually reserved for talking around the recently bereaved, before he and his companions left him and Mathews alone with Casey Moore's lifeless form. Mathews slowly sank to his knees in the puddles as gazed at his stepson's pale, still face.

"I'm really sorry kiddo." he said as silent tears fell slowly from his eyes. "I should never have let it get this far."

"Hey, come on." Fuller said kindly placing a hand on the distraught man's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault." he finished not entirely believing his own words.

"I know it wasn't" he said, suddenly sounding angry and cold as he spotted Hanson being supported by Harry and Judy as they tried to coax him into the waiting ambulance. "Hey!" he shouted angrily as he marched over to where the three young officers stood. Ignoring Hoffs and Ioki he went straight for the injured and disorientated man stood between them. "Sticking around to admire your handiwork are you?" he spat shoving Hanson into the squad car they had been leaning against. Harry and Judy looked on in anger and disbelief at their troubled friend been treated this way, but Hanson simply gazed calmly at the man in front of him as if he wasn't really there. "You killed my kid!" he shouted in Tom's face, the younger mans passive attitude making his anger boil.

"I'm sorry." Hanson replied, his voice barely audible.

"You're sorry! Is that all you have to say?"

"What else do you want me to say?" Tom replied, still with that same calm and passive expression. "He had a knife. I did what I had to do."

"And you couldn't have tried talking to him? He was just a scared kid." Mathews contintued, sounding calmer now, but with tears making his eyes glisten. "You didn't have to aim to kill him."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could take it back, but I can't."

"I should have let you burn." Mathews said softly, his eyes like steel as he glared at the 'kid' in front of him.

"Maybe you should have." Tom replied returning Mathews cold gaze. "I asked you to didn't I? But you made your choice and now we both have to live with it don't we?"

"Yeah, I guess we do. But I swear to God if I could do it over I'd happily torch the place myself knowing you were trapped in there."

"Ok, back off." Fuller said doing a pretty good job keeping the anger out of his voice. Hearing him, Mathews whirled round and transferred his anger to the tall black man stood behind him.

"And what kind of police captain are you? Sending someone who is obviously unbalanced running around with a gun? You're as crazy as he is."

"Ok I know you're upset…" Harry began, "But you have no one to blame but yourself. You got into this and that's fine. But you also dragged Casey in after you. So who's really to blame here huh? Oh, and one more word against my friend and I'll rip your throat out."

"You're telling me you don't think this guy's certifiable?" Mathews said letting out a scornful laugh. "You're all as crazy as he is."

"Right that's enough." Fuller said trying to sound reasonable. "I think it's time we let the paramedics check you out."

"There's nothing wrong with me." Mathews barked still staring icily at Hanson.

"Let's get that confirmed shall we? Officer Jackson has called your wife. She's on her way to the hospital and I think it would be a good idea if you were there to meet her."

"And who's going to explain all this to her? You? Or is our friendly neighbourhood psychopath going to sit her down and have a nice cosy chat?" Mathews turned to grin at Tom. "On second thought's you'd better let you're captain do all the talking. At least he'll know who he's talking to."

"What do you mean?" Judy asked, fear and concern twisting her pretty face.

"He doesn't mean anything Judy." Harry butted in glaring at Mathews. "I think you'd better go now. They're putting Casey in an ambulance."

With one last stony look at Hanson, Mathews stalked away to accompany the body of his stepson. Fuller and Ioki turned their attention back to Hanson, who was still being held tightly by Hoffs as she glared after the retreating form of James Mathews.

"Are you ok?" Harry asked his face and mask of worry and concern.

"I'm fine." Tom replied, his voice coming out flat and lifeless as his eyes continued to stare into nothingness.

"Come on Tom, let's get you to that hospital." Fuller urged, placing a hand on Hanson's arm, the one Judy wasn't clinging to for dear life. "The longer they have to wait for you the longer it'll take to get Doug the help he needs."

"Ok." he replied listlessly as he let them lead him to the open doors. "What about Clavo? I promised Doug I'd take care of him." he said suddenly becoming more agitated as Harry and Fuller helped him into the ambulance.

"I'll get him, Hanson." Judy called up to him, keeping her voice as calm as possible. "Don't worry, he'll be fine with me."

"Thank you." he said offering her a small grateful smile while she tried to offer a reassuring in return as the doors to the ambulance closed cutting them off from each other.

"Has he said anything?" Fuller asked softly as he put a hand on Judy's shoulder

"Not much." She replied. "Are they going to be ok Captain?"

"We'll have to wait and see." he said kindly as they watched the ambulance take their friends away.

"He seems awfully calm don't you think?"

"He's in shock Harry. I don't think it's hit him yet. We're all going to have to be there when it does." Judy let out a short scornful laugh.

"You got a problem Hoffs?" Fuller asked impatiently.

"Yeah. I think we all do. And it's driving away in that ambulance."


	19. Chapter 19

**Debbiets - Thanks for reviewing as always. I'm halfway through the next chapter ;0), I'll hopfully have it up after Christmas.**

**Library Tech - Good to hear from you again. No, I couldn't quite bring myself to kill off Doug, funny cos I don't have a problem killing off any of the others lol.**

**Andaere - So thrilled you liked it cos I had real problems with that chapter, although I really didn't mean to turn you into a gibbering wreck ;0). As for how Tom's going to handle it when it finally hits him you're going to have to wait and see (I'm still writing it :0) )**

**Rubydoo - You're welcome xx**

**IncFinger - Glad you liked it, I wasn't sure that the switching around with different characters would work in this story as it's mostly been in Hanson's head, so thanks for the feedback xx**

**Ghostwriter - always good to hear from you xx**

**Hansons Hot - Wow thank you xx. That's quite a compliment coming from you as I loved Forget December (although, as people in my house seem to take over the internet most days, I never seem to get round to reviewing sorry.)**

**Ok, we're going to escape from poor Tom's head for a little while, it's getting a bit croweded in there. Hope you all like it and hope you all have a fantastic Christmas and a brilliant New Year xx**

Judy's words echoed in Adam Fuller's ears as he paced restlessly around his office trying desperately to think of something to say to the poor kid sat outside. But what could he possibly say? Judy had been absolutely right, Hanson was going to be a huge problem and he was going to need a lot of help. But what could he do? He felt so useless, and he wasn't used to feeling like that. He was used to dealing with situations hands on, finding some resolution, doing something no matter how small. The unrelenting phone calls from Hoffs weren't helping either, she sounded so anxious and obviously needed reassuring. But that was something else to add to the pile of things he could do nothing about. At least they had managed to get Tom and Clavo away from the hospital. It seemed they spent too much time in that sterile concrete prison recently, and it was definitely not what they needed right now. In fact remembering the look on Hanson's face as he and Ioki had arrived to find him sitting in the waiting room when they arrived at the emergency ward, if he never saw another hospital in his life it would be too soon.

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"There he is!" Harry called and tugged on his captains arm when he spotted Hanson sat in the corner of the waiting room. He was huddled in an old coat one of the paramedics had given him and he looked exhausted, shattered Fuller thought would have been a better word, with his head resting in the hand that wasn't hanging from the sling and his hair falling forward obscuring his face. Fuller looked on concerned as he slowly approached him.

"Hanson, you ok?" he asked quietly as he put a hand on Tom's shoulder, noticing how much he was still shaking.

At first he had felt embarrassed and nervous thinking that maybe Tom had been crying but the eyes the younger man turned on his superior when he raised his head showed no sign of tears. They looked lost and old, too old for the face from which they looked out.

"Hey coach." he sighed, tugging at the sleeves of the coat as best he could. Fuller, knowing what he was trying to hide, took a deep breath to keep his unease at bay.

"Any news on Doug?" Hanson carefully shook his head.

"They took him straight into the OR, trying to get the rest of the bullets out." he told them. "The infections pretty bad though." Sighed raking his hair back from his head, wincing as he did so.

"Let me take a look at that." Fuller barked as he reached out, grabbed Hanson's wrist and examined his shredded palm.

"It's fine." Tom told him dully. "_I'm _fine."

"Really?" Fuller said sceptically, raising his eyebrows as he ran his fingers over the bandage covering Hanson's wrist.

"Let it go." Hanson said through gritted teeth as his blank eyes stared through his captain.

"I will if you can." Fuller replied, noticing that Hanson was still avoiding all eye contact.

"I guess IAD will want to talk to me right?" he asked nervously.

"I don't see why they would." Fuller replied.

"I just killed someone."

"Tom, it was a clear cut case of self defence." Ioki told him.

"So what are you telling me? They're just going to let this go?" Tom asked horrified as much by his relief as by what they were telling him.

"You didn't do anything wrong Hanson." Fuller said calmly.

"How can you say that? Another kid is dead because of me." he yelled, "What is this? Some kind of twisted double jeopardy? If you're wrongly convicted of murder you get to kill someone to make up for it?"

"Hanson stop it!" Harry said beginning to panic.

"No, this isn't right. I murdered that kid and they're just gonna let me walk." he said jumping to his feet and shaking uncontrollably.

"Listen to me Tom." Fuller said grabbing the younger man by the shoulders. "Do you really think he would have for one second given any thought to you and Doug after he had got you out of the way?"

"But he didn't did he? I didn't give him the chance." Hanson replied, his face drained of all colour and his legs giving out underneath him as he pulled himself from Fullers grasp and sat heavily down on the hard plastic bench staring at his shaking hands.

"You haven't seen the doctor yet." Fuller said bluntly as he took in the still bloodied dressing on Tom's forehead and his tattered and bloody palms that still seemed to hold so much fascination for the younger man.

"No, not yet." he snapped.

"Do you want me to go hurry them along?"

"No, I'll wait."

"Tom….."

"I'm not going anywhere till I know my partners ok."

"Hanson, this is ridiculous. The doctors are taking care of Doug, and he could be in surgery for quite some time. There's nothing you can do right now, so why don't you let them sort you out?" But Tom didn't seem to be hearing his captain. His attention had been dragged elsewhere as he heard raised voices coming from down the hall. The voices came nearer as their owners came into view and as they did the three officers immediately recognised the tall, distraught figure of James Mathews. He was hurrying after a pretty, dark haired woman in her early forties who appeared to be desperately trying to escape his pleas.

"Will you stop?" Mathews begged as he reached out and grabbed hold of the woman's wrist. She spun round looking at him as if he was something that had just crawled out from underneath a rock.

"I have nothing to say to you." she replied coldly through her tears.

"We were doing it all for you and Annie. We thought it was all for the best."

"The best?" she laughed scornfully, "How can any of this be for the best?"

"If you'll just let me explain" Mathews was pleading, both of them unaware, or just didn't care, that they had an audience.

"Come on." Fuller said uncomfortably to his young officers, "We don't need to see this. Let's see what we can do about finding someone around here to check you over Hanson." But he received no answer, Hanson's eyes were focused on the tearful dark haired woman who was growing angrier and more hysterical by the second.

"Who's that?" Tom asked dully. Fuller and Ioki exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"That's Shelly Mathews." Fuller replied.

"Casey's mom." Harry finished nervously.

"I have to tell her how sorry I am." he said shakily getting to his feet, his groggy steps becoming slightly steadier as he walked.

"Hanson no! That's not a good idea." Harry yelped as he tried to grab hold of his friend but Tom was out of reach before he had chance.

"This can't be good." Harry said anxiously glancing up at his commanding officer.

"Come on." Fuller said hurrying after Hanson.

"Go on then explain." Shelly Mathews yelled as they approached, "Explain how you got my son killed."

"I didn't……"

"Don't you dare make anymore excuses."

"Mrs Mathews." came a soft hesitant voice from behind her. She spun round and found herself looking into the calm but somehow unnerving face of Tom Hanson.

"Yes? What do you want?" she asked.

"I need to talk to you." he replied while Fuller and Ioki came up behind him.

"Hanson, don't do it. You don't have to punish yourself." Fuller said calmly in the younger mans ear, but Hanson simply shook him off.

"Someone's got to." he said icily.

"What's going on? Are you doctors?" she asked puzzled as she took in the sight of three men.

"Do they look like doctors?" Mathews sighed wearily.

"I don't want to hear another word from you." she said rounding on her husband. "Who are you?" she finished turning back to the others.

"We're police officers mam." Fuller replied.

"Oh, well I've already spoken to some other officers, I don't think there's anything else I can tell you." she said wiping at her tearful eyes.

"We're here not here to ask anymore questions." Hanson told her quietly.

"Tom…." Harry began putting a hand on his friends shoulder.

"It's ok Iokage, I have to do this."

"What's going on?" Shelly said glancing nervously around at the four men stood round her.

"Mrs Mathews I'm so sorry…" Hanson began, watching realisation dawn on the woman's face as she took in his bedraggled and bloodied state.

"It was you wasn't it?" she said, her voice shaking. "You were the one who shot my Casey?" Hanson looked at her helplessly and nodded.

"I'm sorry." he said, amazed at how easily the lies still slipped from his lips, and puzzled as to why he couldn't hear the taunting criticism that usually followed. Had they given up on him now too?

"You're sorry?" Shelly said, her voice like ice as her steely eyes glared at him, before her hand came down hard on the side of his face, sending another dizzying wave of nausea rushing through him, while Fuller and Harry looked on in horror.

"How dare you stand there and tell me you're sorry!" she spat. "My son is lying dead on a slab back there. You put him there and all you can say is you're sorry." she seethed before launching himself at Hanson and pounding on his chest with her fists, causing pain shooting through his battered and bruised form, as he watched her unflinching with impassive eyes. "You murdering son of a bitch."

"Ok that's enough." Fuller said as he stepped forward and tried to take hold of the distraught woman. She viciously shook him off without her intense gaze once shifting from Tom's face.

"No, it isn't. There isn't anything I can say or do that will ever be enough." she said. "He was only 17 years old. What right did you have to come along and take him away from us?"

"I'm sorry." was all Tom could find to say. All this earned him was Shelly Mathews spitting in his face.

"Hey!" came the angry voice of Judy Hoffs, who was marching towards them with Clavo Penhall struggling to keep pace. "What the hell do you think you're doing." she seethed as she placed herself between Hanson and Shelly Mathews.

"Telling the bastard who killed my little boy just what I think of him."

"Oh really. You want to know about your little boy."

"Judy its fine." Hanson said in barely a whisper.

"No. This isn't right." she replied turning to Hanson with blazing eyes before returning her fury on Mrs Mathews. "Your little boy tried to kill a police officer and held this man and his own stepfather at gunpoint. That so called innocent child was helping a gangster supply children with guns."

"He was just a child."

"Just a child?!" Judy said, her anger growing, "You see this little boy?" she said placing her hands on Clavo's shoulder and pulling him in front of her. "He is only a child. He's never harmed a soul in his life. Now the only family he has is lying in an operating room filled with holes because of your son. He was going to kill them both, do you not get that? If it had been up to your son this little boy would have no one. Do you think he gave a single thought to what harm he might be causing? Well?!"

"Hoffs…." Fuller said warningly.

"No captain. I'm not having her standing here spouting her poison when Hanson doesn't deserve it."

"I'm not letting you get away with this" Shelly Mathews said coldly as she glared at Hanson.

"Shelly…" Mathews said as he tried to take his wife's hand.

"Don't you touch me. Not ever again. You're as much to blame as him. Stay away from me. I hope you rot in jail, both of you." she said before marching away as quickly as she could.

"Are you ok?" Judy asked softly as she turned back to Hanson.

"I'm fine."

"Look, Tom…"

"It's ok."

"Officer Hanson?" said a tentative voice from behind them. They all turned to see a young nurse standing nervously behind them.

"Hmmm?" Hanson responded vacantly

"The doctor will see you now." she said before hurrying down the hallway.

"Now?" Tom asked before turning to his captain, his face a mask of fear and panic. "I can't."

"It's ok." Fuller said reassuringly, "They're just going to patch you up. There's nothing to worry about." Hanson gave no response and simply stood as if glued to the floor, while his entire form was visibly shaking.

"Hanson," Judy said softly, moving closer to him, "You're badly hurt. Someone needs to check you over before you get any worse." Tom turned his head towards her but, she noticed, still unwilling to meet her gaze as he shook his head.

"I can't. Someone has to watch Clavo, I promised Doug."

"Ok, how about this. I'll take Clavo home with me, and you go and see the doctor. Then after you've got a few stitches you come and find us, ok."

"Stitches?" he asked suspiciously.

"That's all it's going to be. No ones going to do anything you don't want them to, I promise." she finished, hating the way she was talking to him.

"What about Doug?"

"We're here Hanson." Harry said, "As soon as we hear anything we'll let you know."

"You guys aren't letting me get outta this are you?" Tom asked, his slanted smile somehow giving the impression that none of this had happened.

"Not a chance." Ioki replied. "Isn't that right little buddy?" he continued brightly turning to Clavo, the little boy nodding and smiling uncertainly.

"I'll be there as soon as I can ok?" Tom said kneeling down to look at him.

"Ok." he replied quietly, looking wide eyed and scared.

"Everything's gonna be ok." Judy told him gently. "Go on" she said turning to Hanson "I'll see you later."

"This way Officer Hanson." the young nurse said uncomfortably motioning for the young officer to follow her as he got to his feet.

"Sure." Tom sighed, then glancing nervously back at his friends before following behind her.

The three officers and the little boy stood in silence and watched as Hanson disappeared from view, the three adults all lost in their own uneasy thoughts. It was Clavo who broke the silence as he tugged on Judy's hand.

"Where's Doug?"

"He's with the doctors. They're going to make him better." Judy replied kneeling down and putting her hands on the little boys shoulders.

"And then he can come home?"

"Soon, honey." she smiled, before standing and turning to her other companions. "I should get him out of here. I just thought I should check on how things were going you know." she said quietly.

"You two going to be ok?" Fuller asked.

"Probably not." Judy said laughing nervously, "But we'll cope."

"If we hear anything…"

"You'll let me know" Judy half smiled. "Captain?"

"Yeah?"

"Look after him won't you?" she asked with pleading eyes.

"Course we will." Fuller told her with his most reassuring smile.

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He and Harry had waited for what seemed like hours after Judy and finally bundled Clavo into her car. They were anxious for news. Although the doctors had assured them countless times that Doug was going to be fine they still couldn't get the seemingly lifeless figure of their friend out of their minds. They needed to see him desperately but they had been told he was going to be in surgery for quite some time yet. Tom had also been gone a little too long for Fullers liking. He'd taken a nasty hit but stitches couldn't possibly take this long. What if something was seriously wrong? Hanson had been strange at the best of times of late, god knows what this may have done to him. Just as he was contemplating all the worst possible outcomes he could think of the door swung slowly open and Tom walked unsteadily into the hallway, still with that strange lop sided gait, his face frighteningly pale.

"Hey, Hanson, how many stitches did they put in? A thousand? You've been gone hours." Harry said trying to sound as bright as possible as he walked up to his friend.

"Something like that." Hanson replied.

"What did the doctor say?" Fuller asked looking searchingly at the younger man.

"Concussion. I'll be ok." he said sounding much too calm in Fullers opinion. "Where's Clavo?" he said becoming agitated as his eyes darted around the hallway.

"It's ok he's with Judy, remember." Harry said.

"I said I'd stay with him." Tom said distantly.

"He'll be fine with Judy. You need to rest." Fuller told him, his voice taking on that authoritative tone which said protesting was useless.

"Yeah. You look like you're going to have an impressive shiner there, Hanson." Harry said pointing to the freshly dressed wound over Tom's eye.

"It's just a scratch Iokage. You should have seen the other guy." The small smile that had briefly graced his features quickly disappeared as his face darkened and his companions shifted nervously.

"It's ok Tom." Fuller said softly as he reached out to place a comforting hand on Hanson's shoulder. Tom flinched slightly and backed away before looking up at Fuller with huge wide eyes.

"I didn't mean to kill him Captain. You believe me don't you?" he pleaded.

_Hanson had asked that of him once before and as he stood looking back into those lost eyes he found his memory drifting back to that day. It had been the only time he had been able to bring himself to go see Hanson in prison. He remembered filing into the visiting room, he remembered how claustrophobic it felt, how it smelled, that disinfectant smell that you usually only encountered in public toilets. He had sat down on one of the hard uncomfortable straight backed plastic chairs at a small table at the side of the room. He had wanted somewhere out of the way where he could talk. He watched as the prisoners entered the room, some greeting their family members with smiling faces, waiting for the one face he would recognise. Eventually he spotted him, at first he didn't realise it was him. He had lost weight and the prison uniform hung off his frame making him appear smaller than ever. His usually unkempt overgrown hair had been severely clipped, although it still somehow managed to fall into his eyes, highlighting just how young he really was. He looked so out of place in here when compared to the large rough looking guys who were chatting animatedly with their visitors. The young mans eyes scanned the room and his eyes registered slight shock as he noticed the man sat at the table waiting. He looked at Fuller suspiciously as he reached the table where he sat._

_"Where's Doug?"_

_"I wanted to come and see you Tom. Doug sends his best and says he'll see you next month."_

_"Something's wrong." he said, agitated as he sat down opposite. "Is it Harry?" he asked panic rising fast inside him._

_"No. Harry's still pretty much the same. Relax Tom I just wanted to see how you're doing."_

_"Great. Four poster beds, satin sheets, air conditioning in every room, and the food is excellent. I recommend the lobster."_

_"Tom,"_

_"Seriously I'm having a ball. It's a laugh a minute in here, you should try it sometime," he said not looking at Fuller but nervously looking around him._

_"Ok, stupid question, I get it."_

_"Sorry. Doug asks that every time and it wears a bit thin after a while"_

_"Anyone giving you any trouble?"_

_"Nothing I can't handle."_

_"What's that?" Fuller asked gesturing to a yellowing bruise covering Hanson's left cheek._

_"Got into a fight that's all."_

_"What about?"_

_"It doesn't matter."_

_"You're counsellor told me you've been spending quite a bit of time in solitary."_

_"Did he?"_

_"You want to tell me why?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Tom, if you're not coping there's things can be done."_

_"With all due respect I'm not your problem anymore."_

_"Tom, you've been my problem since the day I joined Jump Street, that hasn't changed." he said trying to smile slightly._

_"I'm ok, really. How is everyone else?" he sighed._

_"They're good. You know Doug, the same as ever, Blowfish is still fixing the heater."_

_"I'm going to let you in on a secret coach, that heater has never really been broken."_

_"I know" Fuller said with a smile._

_"How's Judy?" he asked quietly._

_"Studying hard for the detectives exam that's coming up in a few months."_

_"It doesn't seem three years since Harry was sitting that exam." he said. This was followed by an uncomfortable silence._

_"Judy misses you Tom, she wants to see you. Tom shook his head._

_"No. I don't want her in here." he said decisively. "I don't really want Doug coming in here, but you can't really stop him."_

_"Have you seen your mom?"_

_"No, it would kill her to see me in here. I couldn't do that to her. Just tell her I'm doing ok can you?"_

_"Of course." he smiled. "Look Tom, if there's anything at all that you need."_

_"You could always get me the keys so I can walk out of here." he said trying to smile._

_"I only wish I could Hanson."_

_"Actually there is one thing you can do for me."_

_"Go on."_

_"You can believe in me."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I didn't kill him coach."_

_"I know that."_

_"Do you?"_

"Captain?". Fuller was stuck for a moment trying to work out whether it was the Hanson from his memories who was calling to him, or the one stood before him now, so desperately needing his reassurance. "You do believe me don't you?" He looked at the fragile figure before him and gave him the same answer he had back then. "Of course I do Tom."

"Took a while to think about that didn't you coach?"

"Hanson….."

"No, it's alright. I have my doubts too."

"I don't think this is the best time for this do you?" Fuller said softly, "Did they say you could go?"

"Yeah." Tom replied, "As long as someone keeps tabs on me." He finished letting out a scornful laugh.

"Then let's get you out of here."

"No, I'm staying here until I know Doug's ok."

"There's no point in you being here Tom."

"I'm not leaving him. Someone needs to be here for him"

"And what about Clavo? He needs someone too. He and Judy are expecting you."

"We can't just leave Doug on his own."

"Look, I'll stay with him." Harry offered, "You need to get out of here, clean up and dry off before you catch pneumonia as well. I promise as soon as I hear anything I'll call. Ok?"

"Come on Tom, I'll take you home."

"No. I don't want to go home."

"Then where do you want to go."

"The chapel." Hanson said after some thought.

"You got it." Fuller shrugged.

Just then they heard footsteps coming towards them down the hall. A tall thin man, with balding hair and pointed features was walking briskly towards them. Fuller could have sworn he recognised the man from somewhere, and if he had been in the state of mind to give it some thought he would have recognised him as the man who had assessed Hanson's earlier mental problems following Amy's death.

"Excuse me" the man with the rapidly thinning hair said softly as he approached Fuller, Ioki and Hanson. "Captain Fuller?"

"I'm Adam Fuller, yes."

"I'm Doctor Spencer." he said offering his hand. "I've been treating Tom." He finished smiling warmly at the young officer.

"What the verdict Doc? How is he?" Fuller asked lightly

"Oh he'll live. He has quite a bad concussion so if one of you could keep an eye on him for a while, just to make sure he doesn't have any other complications."

"Thank you Doctor." Fuller replied before the older man looked at him seriously and pulled him off to the side.

"Could I have a word with you Captain Fuller?" he asked glancing uneasily across at Harry and offering Hanson a reassuring smile.

"Sure." Fuller replied hesitantly. "Harry, take Tom out to the car will you, and stay with him till I get there." he said quietly to Harry.

"Ok sir." Harry answered throwing suspicious looks at the two older men before slowly leading Hanson out the door.

"Maybe we just talk in private." Spencer suggested gesturing for Fuller to follow him into one of the private treatment rooms.

"How can I help you Doctor?" Fuller asked turning to face the man as he closed the door firmly behind them.

"Take a seat Captain Fuller." he said as he himself sat down. "I work in the psychiatric department of the hospital. Mr Hanson was referred to me after the doctor treating him found what she believed to be self inflicted knife wounds on his arms and wrist." Fuller nodded his head, looking and feeling older than he thought possible. Old but not shocked.

"You don't seem surprised." the doctor said matter of factly.

"I did know about them." Fuller replied. "He's had a pretty hard time recently. He's no danger Doctor. He assured me he was through with all that."

"It seems that way, yes. Unfortunately he's not past finding other methods of ending his life."

"What do you mean?"

"I understand that Tom has spent the past few hours trapped at gunpoint in a burning building. Am I right?" Fuller nodded again. "Well during those few hours he tried no less than three times to walk into the path of automatic gunfire."

"What?"

"He also tells me that he specifically asked not to be brought out of that building after it was engulfed by flames. Apparently he would have been quite happy to stay there and burn."

"Oh my god." Fuller sighed heavily as he ran his hands across the rough growth of his beard. "Did he tell you why? I know there's a lot of stuff that's happened over the years that he feels pretty guilty about but he told me he was dealing with it."

"As I told Tom, there isn't just one thing that's at the route of his problems."

Fuller stared in dumbstruck horror as he listened to the doctor reel off all that Hanson had told him, unable to grasp that the person who he was talking about was the same kid he had known all these years. He had known that prison had been hard on Tom, but he never imagined that it would haunt him to such an extent. He remembered all too vividly how Hanson had reacted to Amy's death, but he hadn't realised that the same obsessive guilt had applied to the other deaths he knew Tom had felt responsible for, or how deep it ran. Sure he had seen the cuts and scars on Hanson's arms, he had seen the state he was getting himself into, but he certainly hadn't thought for one second that Hanson had been so intent on ending it all, especially to the extent that he had nearly taken Doug out with him. Every detail that came spilling out of the doctor's mouth was like a punch in his guts, and he suddenly found himself feeling inexplicably guilty and angry. Guilty because if they had just been a few minutes earlier they could have saved that kids life and saved Tom from more pain. And angry because after all these years, all they'd been through, all the times he had done everything in his power to help and protect him, Tom still hadn't trusted him enough to come and talk to him when he felt things were getting to tough. Which led right back to guilt because, in Fuller's mind, he had failed his young friend.

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you are going to have to give that boy a lot of help and support over the next few months. He's going to need it."

"What's wrong with him Doctor?"

"It looks like a pretty serious nervous breakdown. He's also displaying various symptoms of paranoia and schizophrenia."

"Can you help him?"

"I've put him on medication to control his depression and stop the auditory delusions……"

"Auditory delusions?" Fuller asked in a panic. "He's hearing voices?"

"Apparently so, yes. Hallucinations too."

"Like what?"

"His father, kids that he met through cases. He seems to be using them to punish himself."

"He's felt responsible for their deaths." Fuller said sadly looking around the room.

"He feels that he hasn't paid for what he feels he did, so he's making sure he does, conjuring up their images and voices to tell him what he thinks he deserves to hear. But the medication should stop that providing he sticks to it." he replied. "But there are other issues that I'm afraid we can't block out with pills. He's been extremely traumatised by his experiences in prison, something that he seems particularly obsessive about. Has he ever talked to you about what happened in there?"

"No." Fuller said quietly. "What happened?"

"Well, that's up to Tom to tell you." the doctor said shrugging apologetically, "But it's something he's going to have to come to terms with, and that may need a lot of counselling. But try not to worry too much," he said doing his best to offer Fuller reassurance. "It's going be a long, hard road, but I see no reason why he shouldn't make a relatively good recovery."

"Relatively?"

"I'm afraid with mental illness there are never any guarantees. But he seems a tough kid. The fact it's taken this long for it develop is proof of that."

"What can we do?"

"Just be there for him, keep an eye on him and listen when he wants to talk."

"Tom's not usually one for talking."

"Well that's part of the problem. Encourage him, but don't push him, ok. He'll have enough of that from me."

"Can you help him?"

"We'll do everything we can." Dr Spencer smiled.

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While Fuller was inside listening to the doctor, Harry was sat outside in Fullers old car with a silent Hanson sat beside him. He had attempted to start some sort of conversation but each time he had received no response from his friend, he just sat staring out the window at the rain still pouring down. He wished he would say something, anything, to break the silence because it was making him want to scream. There were so many things he wanted to ask him, so many things he wanted to say to him, but he didn't know where to begin. So instead of all things he wanted to say he said the first thing that came into his mind.

"I'm sorry we didn't get there sooner."

"Don't worry about it."

"But if we'd have been just a few minutes earlier…."

"What do you want Harry? Do you want me to tell you you're forgiven, do you want me to say yes you're right it's all your fault? Tell me what it is you want from me." he snapped, amazed that after everything that had happened and the fact that he was clearly not well, Harry was still expecting him to make everything better.

"I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me what's going on with you."

"I'm crazy Harry, haven't you been listening?"

"You don't have to listen to them Hanson. They're upset they were just venting."

"Doesn't make them wrong though does it?"

"You're not crazy."

"Come on Harry, you don't believe that and we both know it."

"Tom….."

"Stop it Iokage. I might be crazy but I'm not senile. I remember everything I told you, so if you still think I'm not totally out of my mind then maybe you're crazy too." Hanson said laughing and briefly meeting Harry's gaze before turning his face away in a panic, something for which Ioki felt intensely grateful for, because looking in those eyes made Harry feel like he was drowning.

"Can you still hear them?" Harry swallowed nervously, remembering all too clearly Hanson drunkenly letting his secret slip out.

"No." Tom said, somewhat sadly, "They've gone. Just like everything else in this life, turning their backs on you as soon as you have nothing left to offer."

"Did they make you do it?" Ioki asked in a small voice, startled when Hanson let out that strange mechanical laughter that still sounded strange even to his own ears.

"Because that's the only explanation huh? Good old Hanson would never be capable of killing an innocent kid right?" he said smiling eerily at his friend. "Well I've got news for ya Harry, it was all me. I knew what I was doing, I knew the consequences, how may people I would be hurting, and I did it anyway."

"Would you rather it was Doug lying cold on a slab in there?"

"No. It should have been me."

"No one wants that Tom."

"I do."

"I don't really think you mean that."

"Don't you?" Hanson scoffed. "Then why don't you live with this. Then tell me whether I mean it or not. Go on, tell me that you could carry on getting up every morning and go on with your life knowing that you ended someone else's."

"He was going to kill you both Hanson. Don't you get that?"

"I could have gotten Doug out of there without killing anyone, Harry. Do _you _get _that_?"

"You've got to stop this."

"I can't."

"Maybe it would be best if you stayed here for a while." Harry suggested nervously.

"You mean with the rest of the screwballs?"

"Will you stop?!" Harry snapped. "They might be able to help you with all this. I told you before its ok to ask for help. No one will think any less of you."

"I can't. Got too many people expecting things of me don't I?"

"I also told you that you don't always have to be perfect and pretend everything's ok. We give you permission to be human Hanson." he finished with a small smile.

"I hate what I've let myself become Harry." he said staring at his bandaged hands, the long fingers pointing through giving the bandages a strange appearance of fingerless gloves.

"It's not your fault." Harry told him, thinking that after telling him so many times it probably wouldn't make any difference.

Hanson turned to Ioki, a strange look on his drawn and pale face. He was about to reply when the car door opened and Fuller popped his head in.

"Well, the docs say you're free to go Tom."

"Ok." Hanson replied listlessly.

"I'll be right here" Harry told him placing what he meant to be a comforting hand on his friends shoulder. But when Hanson shuddered and shied away he sighed and stepped out of the car, flashing Fuller and look full of hurt, helplessness and confusion. Fuller smiled apologetically back and turned his attention back to Hanson.

"Come on lets get you out of here." he said climbing in the seat Harry and vacated. "Harry, make sure Doug does exactly what the doctors tell him." he said lightly, trying to ease the atmosphere around them that seemed to press down on him.

"No problem." Harry replied. "It's going to be ok you know Hanson." he said before before turning to head back into the hospital and the long night of waiting ahead of him.

"Sure it is." Tom mumbled as Fuller started the engine.

The older man watched the slight figure of Harry Ioki walking away with a heavy weight on his heart. He would have done anything to have a little extra help right now and he was dreading the journey ahead of him, and for Adam Fuller, with the silent unresponsive figure beside him, it seemed the longest journey of his life.

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So now here he was, stood in the doorway to his office. As usual he was there long after everyone else had gone home. There had been a time when he preferred to be here rather than going home to his cold empty house but since Kip had come to stay with him he quite looked forward to opening the door and hearing him calling out his cheerful greeting. But another member of his family needed him right now. That's why he was still here at this ungodly hour of the night. He stood watching the young man sat at the desk near the back of the room as had been doing on and off for most of the night. He had barely moved apart from routing through his desk draws a while ago, but obviously not finding what he was looking for he had gone back to staring in the darkness around him. His face was obscured by the long messy bangs that consistently fell over his eyes, but something in his posture looked so hopeless and defeated that it made Fuller ache to see it. He was a remarkable kid, but still essentially only a kid, needless to say that growing up had not been part of the job description at Jump Street. A kid that looked lost and alone, like he was sitting there by the pavement, beaten, kicked and broken, waiting for someone to find him and show him the way home. At least he could tell him some good news.

"Hanson? he said as he approached the desk. "Harry called from the hospital. Doug's going to be ok. He's lost a lot of blood but it could have been much worse. You did well." Tom just nodded his head his eyes still focused on his bandaged hands.

"How you doing?"

"Doing." Tom said, not shifting his eyes from where they rested on his hands folded in front of him on the desktop, which Fuller noticed were no longer shaking, he also noticed that the bandaged covering his gashed wrist had been hidden by a familiar thick leather band.

"You did everything you could."

"Did I?"

"Tom, listen to me." he said. The use of the young officer's first name having the desired effect of bringing his eyes up to meet his commanding officers. Fuller soon wished however that he had remained staring into space. Those once bright, warm, brown eyes now held nothing but complete hopelessness and seemed not to really see him, like Tom was staring straight through him at the wall behind. Kip may have been six years younger than Tom but at that moment, with those eyes staring out from under the dishevelled dark hair that fell around his pale face, almost as white as the gauze that covered the recently stitched gash just below the hairline, he appeared the very definition of a small fragile child. He knew that his officers were meant to look young, but it sometimes shocked him to realise just how young they still are. Suddenly Fuller wanted nothing more than to put his arms around him and protect him from what was causing him so much obvious pain. But he knew Tom would never let him do that, and there wasn't much left to protect him from anyway. So instead he sat on the corner of Hanson's desk, forced himself to look straight into those haunted eyes and said "It's not your fault. He threatened the life of you and partner. There's nothing else you could have done."

"There's a thousand things I could have done, coach. I could have tried harder to reason with him. I could have just grabbed Doug and run out of there. I could have aimed for a spot that wasn't fatal."

"Doug was in danger. You did what you had to do."

"You know what's funny coach?"

"No. Why don't you tell me?". Tom looked back down at the desk top in front of him with a strange smile on his face, knowing precisely what Fuller was trying to do. He let out that cold metallic laughter before glancing up.

"All I ever wanted was to make my father proud of me, but in the same situation my dad wound up dead."

"You're not you're father."

"Oh I know that Coach. I could never be that selfish right?"

"Selfish?"

"Yeah. He wasn't happy just being my dad. He had to go out and be this hero. Just how heroic is it to bail out on your family and leave your 16 year old kid to pick up the pieces?"

"He wasn't trying to be heroic Tom. He was doing what he thought was right."

"At the time I thought I did too and I'm still here."

"I guess that makes you a better man."

"Really? I shot a 17 year old kid and I'm not sorry I did it, coach. What does that make me?"

"A good cop who did what he had to."

"It makes me just what they said I was." he said, more to himself than to his captain. "So what do I do now?". Fuller smiled sadly at the young man sat before him.

"It's been a long time since you came to me for help."

"Maybe if I'd asked you for help all those months ago none of this would have happened."

"You can't think like that Tom. You move on, because you have to. It's how we get by."

"What if I can't?"

"You will. You're strong.". Fuller was surprised as Hanson let out a bark of disdainful laughter.

"So people keep telling me. Don't mean I gotta be." he sighed. "Have you ever killed anyone?" he asked staring up at the older man.

"Yeah, once." Fuller replied quietly as his face darkened.

"How old was he?"

"I never knew. My guess was that he was around 40, 45 maybe."

"What did he do?"

"He was shooting at me. It was an accident. Just like you."

"Was it?" he said distantly.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't, do you understand. I didn't feel anything before, I didn't feel anything when I did it and I don't feel anything now. It was so easy. I expected to feel guilty, scared, something you know. But there's nothing."

"You're in shock. Give it time. When it does hit you I'll be here."

"It was the same when we finally got Crane." he continued seeming not to hear a word he had said. "When I put him in that cell and turned the key I thought I'd feel some sort of satisfaction, some sense of justice, even just anger. But I looked through those bars thinking that this was the man who was responsible for ruining my life and I felt absolutely nothing. I expected closure, but there's just this empty hole and it's getting bigger everyday."

"Did you get closure?"

"I don't know. Maybe. It's always going to be there though isn't it. It's always going to be a part of me, eating away like a cancer."

"It's over Tom. It's in the past."

"Is it? Whenever I go downtown I hear them Captain. No smoke without fire. Isn't that how it goes. I'm always going to be the guy that took the law into his own hands and flushed his life down the tubes, just like I did to that kids life. And now it's true isn't it. I am a murderer."

"No, you're not. His life went down the tubes the moment he got himself involved in all this. He wasn't some innocent Hanson."

"Maybe."

"Tell me this. Did prison have anything to do with the guy who was the only one Judy felt she could turn to? Did it have anything to do with the guy who went all the way to El Salvador, put himself at risk just so Doug wouldn't have to go alone, and who has been there for him and his kid everyday since?"

"I don't know. I don't really know who I am anymore, Coach."

"You still look like the same kid who gave me more attitude in ten minutes on my first day than anyone other than my ex wife has given me in a lifetime."

"Don't kid yourself Captain. We both know that he disappeared a long time ago. That stupid kid would never have been capable of the things that I've done. I had to let him go, it was the only way I could cope in that place do you understand? Now he's gone, they replaced him with a faceless number and now I can't find him again. And I can't go on pretending to still be that guy anymore coach. It's too much and I'm too tired" Fuller found himself torn between wanting to hug him harder than he had ever hugged anyone in his life and wanting to shake him out of sheer frustration. Tom had always been difficult to read and even harder to reach. Doug always seemed to know how to handle him, but Doug wasn't here right now, so it was up to him.

"What do you want me to tell you Tom?" he said out of sheer frustration.

"That everything's going to be ok." he replied looking up at his commanding officer.

"Do you want me to lie to you?"

"Please." Tom Hanson didn't do tears, but the helpless pleading in that one word made Fullers heart ache more than a thousand tears ever could.

"I'm sorry, Tommy". Hanson nodded sadly, seeming not to notice the older mans use of the much hated childhood name. Fuller could see him putting up the familiar walls that seemed to exist between him and the rest of the world, he saw it and he was helpless to stop it.

"Never were much of a liar were you, Coach?" he said as he went back to staring at his hands. The two men sat in thoughtful silence as Fuller tried to think of something he could say that would make this easier on the troubled young man sat before him. God knows what was going through his mind right now. Eventually, running his hands through his too long and unruly hair Hanson stood to leave.

"You going home?" Fuller asked in a sudden panic.

"I've gotta be alone sometime." he shrugged. "Having a hard time trusting me Coach?"

"No." Fuller replied genuinely offended. "Tom I'd trust you with my life."

"Just not my own, huh?"

"Tom, I talked to the doctor after you left."

"That must have been fun for you. Find out anything interesting?"

"Tom I wish you'd told me."

"Would you have wanted to hear?"

"I would have wanted to help."

"Don't worry Captain. I'm seeing the shrink in the morning like a good little crazy boy and I'll take whatever he gives me. Until then feel free to tag me and remove all sharp objects from my reach."

"Just promise me you're not going to be on your own."

"It's fine. I'm doped up to the eyeballs. No imaginary friends or death wishes in here coach." he said bitterly as he tapped his head.

"Tom, please."

"I won't be alone, ok. I've got to pick Clavo up from Judy's. I promised him I'd be there. If Doug's out of surgery he should be allowed visitors so I should take the kid to see him."

"If you have any doubts as to whether you did the right thing Tom, just look at that boy and think what would have happened to him without his uncle."

"Clavo never crossed my mind. That's part of the problem."

"You going to be alright?" Fuller asked pointing to the gauze on Hanson's head.

"Don't worry, I've no intention of sleeping." he said as he turned to leave. Fuller could see Hanson moving further and further away from him. He had needed something from Fuller and he had been unable to give it to him. But then over the years so many people had tried to give Tom Hanson what he needed, the problem was no one was really sure what that was. He wasn't even sure Tom knew himself anymore.

"What do you want from me Hanson?" he yelled in frustration forcing the younger man to stop and face him.

"Help me." he said, those wide eyes staring back at him.

"All I've ever done is try and help you Tommy. I'd do anything, but before I can I need to know how."

"So do I" Tom replied, turning his back once again.

"Tom?"

"Yes Captain Fuller?" he said dully and turned once again to face his commanding officer.

"Everything will be alright in time."

"You know, you're a terrible liar Coach." he replied with a small sad smile on his pale face. "Does that offer of time out still stand?"

"As long as you think you need." Fuller replied softly. "But I want to you to call in everyday, you got that?"

"Keeping tabs on me after all huh?"

"Just looking out for my boy."

"Thanks coach." he smiled sadly, and with that he was gone.


	20. Chapter 20

**x0xbklynzgrlx0x – Thank you xx Glad you're enjoying it. Always nice to hear from a new reviewer.**

**Thanks and Happy New Year Ghostwriter and Library Tech xxx.**

Hanson walked shakily down the Chapel stairs and made his way to his car, where it had sat most of the night having been towed from Greenwoods parking lot a few hours ago. The rain was falling heavily again now and as he fumbled for his keys, his bandaged hands making the task awkward, the water plastered his hair to his forehead, obscuring his vision, soaking the dressing covering the gash on his brow and seeping down underneath the collar of his brown leather jacket. Registering only mild annoyance that his overgrown hair was preventing him from seeing to put the key in the door, he flicked it out of his eyes and jammed the key home, not seeming to care that he was soaking the seats to his pride and joy.

Having not found any in his desk draw, he began searching through the glove box for the flask he had been carrying around recently, before realising that he had left it behind as they had made their escape. Thinking of this only led, inevitably, to the events that had followed, that awful vision of that poor boy lying dead on the floor and the sound of the gun shot thundering in his ears.

Doing his best to shake that image away, he sat at the wheel for a moment just staring out of the window at the rain running down the windshield and listening to the quiet that surrounded him. It seemed so strange after not having a minutes silence for what seemed like years, and he realised suddenly that he didn't like it. The doctors had told him that he could make the voices go away if he wanted to, be he wasn't sure he did. He knew it was all part of his 'illness' and it was all completely nuts, but the sound of his dads voice, even though not necessarily pleasant, had been oddly comforting. It had been good to have his dad to talk things over with again and now it was gone his father had never felt so dead, and he had never felt so alone. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to go home and let sleep wash away the last three years of his life and the long hard journey the doctor had promised was laying out ahead of him. It seemed to be towering ahead of him like a giant mountain he had no chance of scaling. Resting his aching throbbing head on the steering wheel and closing his eyes, he thought back to those few hours ago as he had been sat in the shrinks office, how amazed he had been at the way the words seemed to have flowed from his lips. All the things he had been too scared and too ashamed to admit to those closest to him had simply come spewing forward, as if some faucet had been turned on that he had no control over. Behind his closed lids he saw the image of the doctor just sitting patiently listening, just as he had all that time ago after Amy's murder, detached and making no judgements as he continued to reveal all the awful truths he had tried so hard to keep locked up safely inside him.

He laughed as he heard the doctors probing questions echoing in his head. _"Have you been under a lot of stress recently?"_ he'd asked. Tom had replied by laughing almost as much as he was laughing now. But laughter didn't last long these days, because shame was never far behind, and his confessional had brought it all back, how weak and how selfish his actions had been. Sighing, he buried his head in his arms as he heard his own flat emotionless voice echo through the silence.

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"_I don't know what I was thinking." he heard himself say, "I saw the truck, and just thought it was my way out. I just wanted to see if I could do it, you know, end it under my terms. But they weren't my terms were they? I had no idea what I was doing."_

"_Were you serious?"_

"_I can't have been. Wouldn't have swerved out of the way if I was would I?"_

"_So why do you think you did that?" the doctor had asked after listening to Tom's admission that he had nearly driven himself and Doug under the wheels of a truck._

"_I don't know. I guess I just felt I needed to be in control of something, even if it was only my own death."_

"_And what about your partner? He was in there with you wasn't he?"_

"_Yeah, he was. But at the time it didn't seem that important. I just saw a way out. I guess that makes me everything they said right?"_

"_No." Dr Spencer said simply. "It makes you human."_

"_So what's the verdict doc? Am I nuts or what?"_

"_You're not nuts Tom. You're ill, it's nothing to be ashamed of."_

"_What's wrong with me?" he asked softly still staring at the ground underneath his feet while his hands twisted in his lap. He heard the other man move and glanced up to see him walking around his large desk to perch on the edge closest to him, feeling uncomfortable as the doctor tried to make eye contact._

"_I promise you, you are not crazy. You're having a nervous breakdown, there's a big difference." _

_He had thought that knowing what was wrong with him, having some name to put to it, would somehow make it easier, make it seem less frightening, but it hadn't. Hearing those words made his blood run cold and he suddenly felt like he was falling, like he was spinning out of control on some fairground ride that you couldn't get off._

"_I can't be." he said helplessly shaking his head. "I'm a cop. I'm meant to be able to handle this stuff."_

"_Tom…"_

"_Do I look like I have time for a nervous breakdown?" he continued hysterically "I have too many responsibilities. There are people counting on me."_

"_I'm sorry Tom. I know this is difficult to hear, but it is happening." Spencer said softly, "But I promise, you can get better."_

"_Really?"_

"_With help, and time, things will get easier."_

"_Am I dangerous? I mean, will I hurt anyone else?"_

"_Tom, you're not psychotic."_

"_What about the voices?" he asked baffled. He wasn't a psychologist, but even he knew that hearing voices definitely meant crazy._

"_Sometimes breakdowns are accompanied with schizophrenic symptoms. But we can make them go away as long as you want them to. You're the one that's in control, not them, you have to remember that"_

"_I don't feel in control."_

"_Well that's pretty much par for the course." Spencer smiled softly. "What about Casey Moore? How do you feel about that?"_

"_I don't. But I should shouldn't I? I'm not even going to be punished for it"_

"_You think you should be?"_

"_Of course. I killed him."_

"_It sounds to me like you did the only thing you could."_

"_I should still feel something."_

"_You will. And when you do don't keep it to yourself. Let it out, talk about it." he said, "There's going to be a lot of things you're going have to talk about that I know you're probably not going to want to. But you're gonna have to face them and come to terms with them. That's the only way you're going to work through this."_

"_What, you don't have any magic anti crazy pills?" Tom said with a slight smirk on his face._

"_There is medication we can give you to help keep your condition manageable," he replied calmly ignoring Hanson's sarcasm, "But they're not a cure. Issues have to be resolved Tom, not hidden. That is if you want to get well again."_

"_This is going to be a ball isn't it?" Tom laughed sadly._

"_I'm not going to lie to you, it's going to be hard, there's going to be times when you hate me and would probably love to wring my neck," he told the young officer, a small smile gracing his kind pointed features, "And there's going to be times when you hate yourself…."_

"_I already do." Tom said quietly._

"_But you can get through this, and it's my job to help you."_

"_Whatever you say" Tom shrugged._

"_There's something I would like you to give serious thought to." he said hesitantly. "I think you would benefit from spending some time in our treatment facility." Tom's head shot up and his eyes stared out from his pale face, wild and scared, but part of him feeling that it was pretty much what he deserved and would probably be in everyone's best interest. You couldn't hurt anyone if you were locked away._

"_You mean a nuthouse? Straight jackets and lock ups? I don't think so." he said violently shaking his head._

"_Think it would do you a lot of good. These places aren't as bad as they sound, I promise." he said gently. "And while I don't think you're a danger to anyone else, I am worried about you."_

"_I'm a danger to myself you mean?"_

"_Do you think you are?"_

"_Not anymore. After what I've done I think I'm too worried about where I'd end up. I've seen enough fire and brimstone for awhile."_

"_To be honest with you Tom, I'm surprised it took this long for our paths to cross again. I'm not going to lie to you, you are ill, and I suspect you have been for some time. I really think time out could be just what you need. Just give it some thought ok."_

"_Sure." Tom sighed as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Can I go now?"_

"_Do you have anyone who can stay with you tonight?"_

"_My captain and two of my partners are waiting outside." he replied. Then he was suddenly hit by an awful realisation. "You're not going to tell them are you?"_

"_Do you not want me to?"_

"_No. I'd rather they didn't know."_

"_You're going to have to tell them sometime."_

"_I know. I'd prefer to tell them myself, and I will, but I need to get my head round this first."_

"_Ok. But you're not going anywhere alone tonight."_

"_Ok." he shrugged._

"_And I want you to come and see me again tomorrow and we can set up a schedule for your treatment."_

"_No problem" he sighed realising all at once that this was going to be a tough ride._

"_And I'm going to start you on medication right away. That should help control the mood swings and delusions." he said scribbling on his prescription pad. "We'll go to the pharmacy and collect them in a moment."_

"_And I'll be ok then right?"_

"_You'll be able to manage better." he smiled, trying to be reassuring Tom thought, but all it did was make him feel more ashamed, more of a failure. He couldn't cope and he let down everyone he cared about._

"_I don't suppose you have drugs that can wipe out three years of someone's life do you?" Tom asked with a nervous smile._

"_I'm afraid not." Spencer replied. "Right." He said decisively getting to his feet. "I'm sure your friends are getting anxious, so we'll get your medication and then you can go home."_

"_Thank you." He said, feeling older and more exhausted than he thought possible._

"_Just promise me you'll give some thought to what we talked about. I really do think it would be for the best."_

"_I'll think about it Doc."_

"_Good." he smiled, "What do you want me to tell you're friends?"_

"_Nothing. I'll tell them in time."_

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Of course, he hadn't told them, only Fuller knew. He couldn't face telling them all, didn't have the energy for it and only wanted to crawl underneath the blankets and hide from the world. But he couldn't because as usual he had responsibilities. Doug needed him and Clavo was waiting. The last thing that poor kid needed was another adult falling to pieces on him.

So he drove slowly down the familiar streets that led to Judy's house, as slowly as time would allow him trying to pull himself together, trying to stop the thoughts that were spinning in his muddled mind. He had to be strong, he had to learn how to deal with all this, and the last thing he wanted was for Judy to look at him like that doctor had. Pity for the poor deranged fuck up. And he certainly didn't want Clavo to see what a mess he was. So he took a deep breath and forced himself to put everything out of his mind, and concentrated on the road in front of him. By the time he reached the small pleasant suburb where Judy lived he had managed to somehow put his fragile pieces in some sort of order, so when she opened the door, he was able to greet Judy with his usual thousand watt smile.

"Hey!" he said lightly.

"Hanson, thank god." she said, relief flooding over her as she threw her arms around him. He automatically began to return her hug, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She was all that was right and good in life and he had no right to contaminate her with the dirt and poison that was trapped in every pore of his skin.

"I've been so worried." she continued. "How's Doug."

"He's going to be ok. Harry say's he's out of surgery and should be back on his feet in no time." he told her, seeming completely distracted.

"Hanson, you're soaked. Come out of the rain."

"Is it raining?" he said as he looked up at the sky and noticed the downpour for the first time. Judy ushered him through the door and he looked round absently for a few moments before realising how unnaturally quiet the place was.

"Hey, where's Clavo? Is he sleeping?"

"We waited for you for hours. In the end I took him to Doug's Uncle Mick's. I figured he needed to be with family."

"It's not that late is it?"

"Hanson, it's three in the morning." He looked round in surprise, noticing that Judy was wearing only an oversized shirt and socks.

"I'm sorry. I must have lost track of the time."

"Don't worry about it. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a concussion, nothing to worry about."

"And everything else?"

"You can't change what's happened can you?" Tom shrugged.

"No, I guess not. Are you sure you're alright."

"Yes. Jesus, Jude it was just a bump on the head, a pretty big one I admit but…."

"Well, in that case you shouldn't be driving. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll drive you home."

"I'll be alright. Anyway I promised Clavo….."

"He's fast asleep, he won't know anything about it. Please Hanson, just humour me ok?"

"Whatever makes you happy." he said with a sigh of resignation.

"Good. You can leave your car here, collect it in the morning and then go get Clavo. A few hours won't make much difference." she finished, grateful for any excuse to keep him under her watchful eyes.

"Ok, thanks Jude." he muttered, staring at the floor.

"I won't be long." she called as she headed towards her bedroom to change.

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Shortly after Judy had re-emerged wearing tatty old sweat pants under the oversized shirt, Hanson found himself sat in the passenger seat of Hoffs new red sports car, his wet jacket huddled around him and his damp overgrown hair falling over his eyes. As she drove Judy tried to make conversation to keep him from falling asleep but all she could coax out of her friend was a series of non committal grunts. She found this slightly unnerving. Although Hanson wasn't the most talkative person in the world he wasn't usually sulky, not with her anyway, and at least not till recently. She kept throwing quick glances at him as she drove, trying to wipe away the image of him sat in that smoke filled room with his distant eyes focused on the dead child. Even now, unable to see his eyes due to his hair and the fascination he seemed to have developed with the rain outside, she could still see the hopelessness in his posture and wished she could pull him into her arms and hold him until everything that was hurting him disappeared, but as he didn't seem to like people too close to him these days she felt it best not to, and the rest of the journey passed in eerie silence.

When they arrived at the building that housed Hanson's apartment, Judy walked with him up the stairs to his front door.

"Are you going to be ok?" she asked studying his face as he went straight to the near full bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. "I really don't think you should be alone right now."

"Why not? Don't you trust me?"

"It's nothing to do with whether I trust you or not. Hanson, I think you're ill and you need people around you. And I don't think that's wise" she said as he began to gulp down the whiskey.

"I've just been through a pretty stressful night ok." he snapped, "Look, I'm fine. I saw the doctor and there's nothing serious."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"Of course I am. I don't lie remember."

"Hanson…."

"I'll be ok. It's only a concussion Jude."

"You need someone to keep you awake?" she said suggestively.

"No. You go home. I'm sorry I woke you so late".

"Don't worry about it. Get some rest ok." she said uncertainly, turning to leave. She didn't get far however, when she heard him call out from behind her.

"Judy?"

"What is it?" she said as she spun round to see his wide scared eyes staring out at her as if they were screaming.

"Could you do me a favour?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Can you hold me?"

"Anytime." she said. She pulled him into her arms and was shocked when she felt how much he was shaking. Whether it was from the cold or something else she couldn't tell. "Hanson what is it?" As he heard the compassion and worry in her voice the thick shield of apathy that had been protecting him for so long splintered and cracked and all the emotions it had been holding back flew in, bombarding him and striking him in the chest like a thousand arrows as he struggled to breathe. The truth and the finality of what he had done finally hitting him. Feeling him shaking in her arms and hearing his gasping breaths, Judy began to panic.

"Please tell me what's wrong." she pleaded as she pulled away and looked into his face and all but holding him up. Pushing the door closed with her heel she tried to lead him over to the couch but he pulled himself from her grip.

"Everything's wrong." he yelled, his eyes suddenly flashing with anger. "It has to be wrong. How can I just be allowed to walk back in here like nothing has happened when that poor kid is lying dead on a slab because I killed him."

"He knew what he was getting into Hanson."

"No he didn't. He thought he was helping his family, he was scared." he said, breathing heavily. "He was just a scared kid and I murdered him." Then he let out a terrifying yell making Judy jump back at least 10 feet as he spun round and swept all the empty glasses and bottles from the counter behind him onto the floor where they shattered into tiny pieces, before sending the cluttered coffee table flying into the wall. It fell onto the floor, leaving a hole in the wall and one of the legs hanging off, and everything that had been resting on its top flew past their heads.

"_Murderer."_ came the cold chilling voice he had thought had finally left him.

"I didn't mean to." he said shaking as cold terror ran up his spine.

"_Enough lies! You wanted to kill that boy. You wanted to give them a reason to punish you."_

"Stop it, stop it, stop it. You're supposed to have gone. I was promised you'd go!" he said in a whisper as he sank to the floor, his arms wrapped protectively around him.

"_You can make us go. That's what the shrink said. It's all in your hands, remember? Come on, you know what to do."_

"Tom, what are you doing?" Judy asked as calmly as she could, kneeling before him and putting a tentative hand on his arm.

"I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago." he said with a strange glint in his eyes as he struggled to his feet and pushed past Judy as if she wasn't there.

"Where are you going?" she asked, panic rising in her chest while she watched him stumble across the room to the chest of drawers by the door.

"Where I can't cause anymore pain." he replied in a faraway voice, rifling through the drawer. Then Judy stared in horror as Hanson slowly pulled out a handgun and stood looking at it with a grotesque grin twisting his features. "It would be so easy." he said thoughtfully, giving Hoffs the impression he no longer noticed she was in the room. "One shot and it's all over. That's all it took to kill Casey, you know. That's all it took to take Amy away."

"Tom, put it away, please, you're scaring me."

"It's the only way to put things right."

"No it isn't." she said, doing her best to keep her voice sounding calm and level, while she could feel scared and hopeless tears welling in her eyes as she looked at the unrecognisable face of the guy she loved. "Where did you even get that?"

"I'm a police officer, I can get hold of any weapon I want." he grinned as he turned the gun over in his hands.

"Tom, please give me the gun."

"No. I have to put things right. I killed that boy. I helped to kill Ronnie and Matty. I couldn't help Amy and Kenny. I poison everything I come into contact with. It's for the best Judy." he shrugged before raising the gun and holding it to his temple with his shaking hand.

"I'm begging you Hanson, please put the gun down." she pleaded, fighting back her fear and tears as she slowly edged towards him.

"Stay where you are." he yelled. "This is what's right. I have to pay for what I did this time. And if no one else is going to do it I'll have to do it myself."

"Hanson, you've paid for it a thousand times over already. This is not the way to deal with this."

"Then tell me how I _am_ supposed to deal with this." he said coldly. "Go on Judy, if you have all the answers. Those who claim to care about me so much left me alone in a stinking jail cell, where I was humiliated, beaten and degraded everyday for months on end. I was backed into corners by gangs of guys twice my size who were trying to make me do things I would rather die than do. I can still see their eyes leering at me, I can still smell their breath and feel their hands reaching out for me, and it makes my skin crawl. It makes me feel dirty and contaminated, so much so that I can't bear for anyone to touch me. I still hear the sound of my own screams and the scrape of the keys in the lock. All that because of something someone else did. I paid the price, and my _friends_ just let me."

"I'm so sorry." she said tearfully, her heart breaking as she watched the pain etched on her friends much loved face. She knew every line on that face, yet she had never seen the frightening expression that was now twisting it beyond recognition.

"But I suppose I deserved it didn't I?" he continued, not seeming to hear her. "I just left Kenny to rot, I let Ronnie and Matty die, and I just stood there and watched as some petty thief shot the girl I was supposed to be in love with. For months I told anyone who would listen that I wasn't a killer, that I was innocent…"

"You were innocent."

"And then what do I do when they set me free? Kill a 17 year old child. I'm a murderer Judy." he said coldly. "When I try to think about the future I see nothing but a giant hole. I can't look back at the past because it makes me want to puke. So Judy, how do I carry on? How do I get past all that?"

"You stay with me and let those who love you help you through it."

"So I can carry on hurting more people? No it's better this way. This way it will all just disappear."

"Please don't do this. We can help you."

"I have to. I'm sorry." he said softly, looking at her with those lost wide eyes.

"Tom, don't leave me."

"It's for the best."

"No it's not. What am I supposed to do without you?" she said, her voice now thick with weeping. Now only inches away from him she reached out her hand and placed it on his, slowly trying to loosen his grip on the gun. "I can't imagine my life without you in it."

"Then you're not trying hard enough." he said pushing her back from him.

"I don't want to try."

"You're better off without me." he whispered, uncertainly.

"That's not true. Tom, I love you."

"No you don't, you can't." he stammered, his hand wavering on the trigger. Seeing his resolve weakening, Judy raised her hand to close over his and gently lowered the gun away from his head.

"You told me a few days ago that I was your reason for waking up every morning" she said softly, "Well, Tom, your mine. So please don't leave me."

Looking into her eyes he released his grip on the gun and dropped it to the floor before collapsing shaking into her arms, where she held him as tightly as she could, relief coursing through her.

"Judy, help me please." he whispered, the part of him that had long been silent finally finding a voice.

"Tell me what to do." she said, nearing tears.

"Oh god, what have I done?" he sobbed, oblivious to Hoffs' pleas

"What you had to."

"No. It didn't have to end that way."

"Would you rather Doug had died? Would you rather Clavo be left alone?"

"No. I'd rather it had been me. God I wanted so badly for it to be me." he hissed, "He had his whole life ahead of him. I've got nothing but emptiness and blackness stretching out in front of me. How is it fair that he should have been the one to die?"

"Listen to me, Tom, please."

"No. You don't understand. I would give anything to have taken that kids place." Tom yelled as he pulled away from her, his bandaged hands clenching into fists.

"Don't talk like that." she said, trying to reason with him as he whirled wildly around his small living room. "You don't really want that and I sure as hell don't."

"I don't know what I want. I don't think it would really matter if you're already dead."

"You're not dead." she sighed raking her hair back from her face, suddenly exhausted.

"I've been dead in here for months." he said slamming his hand against his chest. "What difference would it make?"

"That's not true. If it was you wouldn't be hurting like this."

"You think so?" he snapped.

"Tom listen to me." she said again as she moved cautiously over to him, taking his hand in hers and placing over his racing heart. "You feel that?" she asked softly, "It's still beating, still fighting in there."

"Just because its beating doesn't mean I'm alive."

"Doesn't matter. You said it belonged to me remember?" she said smiling softly, "That means I get to say when it stops."

"I can't go on like this."

"I know. And you don't have to. But you do have to go on. Because I need you."

"No you don't." he said smiling sadly, untangling his hands from hers, "You don't want to love me Judy, trust me. Everything I touch I contaminate or destroy."

"You don't really believe that."

"I don't know what I believe. Everything used to be so clear, but now it's all so muddled. Nothing makes any sense and there's nothing I can do to make it stop." he said pulling at his hair with his injured fingers.

"Hanson, stop it." she shouted as she put her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could.

"I can't stop it, any of it. It's too hard." he said, his voice rasping between ragged breaths. "It's just going to go on and on and I can't stop it."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't tell you, you wouldn't see me anymore."

"I don't understand Tom."

"I wish I could tell you. I wish I could hold you and love you the way you deserve and that you could make everything right, but that's not going to happen. If I did when you looked at me you wouldn't see me, you'd see the same poisonous twisted wreck everyone else does. I don't want that." he said as his hands gripped her arm. "I've let you all down, I'm so sorry."

"No you haven't."

"I tried, I swear. I never meant to be this person, Judy. I tried so hard, but it's just one more thing I've failed at."

"Tom, please…."

"I can't make it better this time." he said looking at her hopelessly

"I can help you, I promise, but you have to tell me what's wrong." she pleaded as she forced him over to the couch and gently pushed him down onto it. Seating herself beside him she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could as he continued to shake. "Tell me what's going on in there that's hurting you Tom please." she begged. He wanted to tell her everything, to have her help him make some sense out of it all. He wanted her to make it all go away. But he couldn't, she would never look at him the same way again.

"I can't" he said quietly. Panic rose in her guts as her first thought was 'oh my god what else has he gone and done?'.

"Why not?" she said softly as she silently berated herself for once again thinking badly of one of her best friends.

"If I told you, you'd hate me."

"There's nothing you could tell me that would make me hate you."

"Really? What happens when you run out of lies to tell yourself and you're faced with what I see?"

"Hanson, please let me help you." she begged, feeling like she was just going round and round in circles.

"How can you help? I killed him Judy."

"I know" she said as her stomach twisted in knots.

"He had Doug, there's nothing I could have done. I couldn't let him hurt him."

"Of course you couldn't." she said, hating the patronising tone in her voice.

"There was so much blood. It just kept on coming. I didn't think anyone had that much blood."

"Hush, it's all over."

"But it isn't is it? I'll never be able to wash all that blood of my hands."

"Hanson, there's nothing there." she said gently, her mind reeling as she looked at him. "See. They're clean."

"No, it's never washing away. Oh god Judy, what do I do now?" he gasped through ragged breaths. "I'm everything they said I was."

"Who Tom?"

"It doesn't matter. They're gone now." he said lowering his head, his hair falling over his face like a wall coming down between them. She reached out to brush it away when his hands shot out and tightly grabbed hold of hers. "Tell me what to do Judy, I'm drowning here."

"Oh Tom." she said grief flooding over her. "You did what you had to. It's not your fault."

"I didn't mean to kill him Judy. You've got to believe me" he pleaded as his dark eyes searched her face.

"I know you didn't." she replied looking straight into his eyes.

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do. Tom, you're not a killer." she said, his feverish eyes studying her face, as if he was looking for some sign that she was lying to him.

"Hanson?" she asked nervously as she studied his drawn face, "What did the doctors really say?"

"I told you." he said, a hint of panic in his voice. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"I didn't say there was. I just think that maybe it would be best if you stayed at the hospital for a while, just so they can keep an eye on you."

"No!" he said, "You said I didn't have to, you promised." he finished, his voice wavering and his eyes pleading desperately.

"I'm worried about you. You've been acting real weird lately."

"I'm fine" he said through gritted teeth.

"But you're not. You must realise that."

"I just have to work through some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"It's not your problem."

"Were you not listening to me earlier? Your problems are my problems."

"I can't tell you."

"Tom, it's nothing to be ashamed of. No one could go through the things you have and not be affected by it."

"I've not been affected by anything."

"Hanson, you've just held a gun to your head!" she said through a short burst of panicked, hysterical laughter.

"I did?" he asked distantly

"You don't remember?" she asked looking at him nervously.

"I….no I don't." he asked, his face a mask of worry and confusion.

"It's alright. We're all here for you, we'll get you whatever help you need." she choked.

"I'm cursed aren't I?" he said quietly as he regained some of his usual composure.

"No you're not!" she said vehemently. Although she couldn't help but think that he may just have a point. "We're cops Hanson. It's a dangerous job and bad things happen. We just need to get you a better guardian angel." she said grinning at him trying to raise a smile.

"Are you offering?" he asked rewarding her with said smile, although it was gone as quickly as it came.

"Can you stay? I don't think I want to be alone right now."

"Sure."

"Thanks."

"No problem. After all, someone's got to clean up after you Hanson" she said, grasping for any small thing she could do for him. As she stood to walk towards the kitchen to clear away the broken glass, Tom's hands shot out and clamped around her wrist. When she turned to look at him the fear and pain in those wide eyes nearly broke her heart. What else could possibly happen to this poor guy?

"Don't go, please."

"I'm not even leaving the room." She told him softly.

"I can't be on my own. They're worse when I'm alone."

"What are worse?"

"They promised they'd stop, but they're still in there." he said hitting his head against the back of the couch. Judy watched him, her insides twisting and fear pricking along her spine.

"What are you talking about Hanson?" she asked, her voice struggling to remain calm.

"I'm crazy, that's what."

"No you're not." she said, trying to sound reassuring, as much for herself as for him.

"Stay right here, please. I need you." he begged.

"I'm not going anywhere. As long as you need me I'll be here" she said sitting back down beside him and taking hold of his shaking hand. "If you want to shout, kick and scream, you go ahead and do it. I'll still be here when you're done. I'll be here whenever you need me."

"Then I guess you can't ever leave." he said with a small smile playing on his lips. She watched that smile nervously as her mind flipped over the numerous different men she had spoken to since Hanson knocked on her door only a short while ago.

"Come here." she said as she guided his overloaded and aching head down to rest in her lap. "Just because you can't sleep, doesn't mean you can't rest."

"I don't know what to do." he said sounding like a small child as he looked up at her.

"It's going to be ok, Hanson. I promise you." she said, brushing his still damp hair from his face.

"Really?"

"Yes"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you don't deserve any of this."

"Don't I?"

"No. You're one of the best people I know, Hanson."

"Don't Judy, please. I can't listen to anyone else telling me how wonderful I am."

"What can I do?"

"Make it go. Just make it all go away, Judy please."

She sat for a moment just looking down into his pleading eyes. Over the years she had looked into those eyes and watched the light that shone in them. She had seen that light dance with laughter, she had seen its warm glow and over time she had seen its flame stutter and struggle to burn as it gasped for the oxygen to keep it going. That the light should go out now seemed inconceivable to her. She would have given anything, done anything to take away the helpless anguish she saw in those eyes.

"I'll make it go away Tom, I promise." she thought to herself. Then, without really knowing what she was doing, only that every cell in her body wanted to wrap around him, comfort and reassure him, she bent her head down towards him and pressed her lips gently against his, wanting him to know that she didn't see him the way he thought, that she loved him and wanted him, and if he wouldn't listen she'd just have to show him. It was like an electric shock running through him as he suddenly seemed to quicken, like she was breathing life back into him. Without breaking the kiss, she carefully raised him into a sitting position. He was clinging to her desperately, as if he was scared he would fall if he let go and never stop. Her fingers reached up into his dark hair and she felt his breath catch as she accidentally brushed against the dressing covering his stitches.

"Oh god, I'm sorry." she said as she began to carefully examine the gauze to ensure it was still intact.

"It doesn't matter." he said as his mouth hungrily sought hers once again. She could smell the rain in his hair as she leaned into him deepening the kiss, this time placing her hands either side of his neck instead, as his hands worked their way up her back. The weight of her made his battered and bruised form scream out but he didn't care. He knew he was using her, just as others had used him. Using her to block everything out, to prove to himself that he could still at least feel something. But he didn't care about that either. He needed this, to feel something more than the emptiness that had plagued him for too long. He needed to feel wanted, needed to feel alive. She could feel hot tears running down his cheeks, and raising her hand to wipe them away she placed soft kisses on his closed eyelids before pulling away and began to carefully lift away the leather jacket and T Shirt that had replaced Tommy McQuaid's ratty clothes. She gently lifted the shirt over his head, trying not to catch his injured arm and gasped as she saw the cuts and bruises that covered most of the left side of his body. Ignoring the cuts on his arm, thinking they were another result of whatever had caused the bruises, she gently inspected his injuries to reassure herself that he hadn't broken any ribs as he silently watched her. Once she was satisfied that there were no broken bones she began to place soft kisses on the bruises sending shivers through his entire form. She sat up and he looked at her with confused and questioning eyes, amazed that he could stand her touch, as she began to unfasten the buttons on her own shirt.

"It's ok" she said gently before leaning into him again, her lips again meeting his as her fingers ran gently across his chest, hovering over his heart, feeling it beat as she remembered those few moments in the chapel when he had told her all she had wanted to hear. Then they moved down over the flat base of his stomach, before they reached out and began to work the clasp on his belt, smiling slightly as she found herself fascinated by how the human body responds even when the mind is hurting. She saw him as he watched her face in fascination as she took hold of his hands and gently guided him on. As he wrapped his arms around her and gently rolled her over, she had to tell herself that this was really happening, that he was really here with her moving and warm against her. She found herself amazed by the way her body responded to his touch as his long fingers moved over her dark skin, over the curve of her hip as he gently pulled away her tatty trousers, moaning softly as she felt his hand slide to the inside of her thigh. It had never been like this before, it was like they were made for each other and that this is the way it was always meant to be. She worked her fingers into his thick mop of dark hair as the feel of his lips and the tickle of his warm breath on her neck sent shocks racing down her spine. For Tom, for the first time in what seemed like years, it all washed away, things suddenly became clear and all thought ceased. His mind was focused solely on absorbing this moment, letting every movement, every touch and every sensation fill his entire being, letting them sink in and fill the hole inside that had been growing everyday. Loosing himself in her and the sound of her breathing. Her touch was gentle and her cool skin was like balm against his battered form and fevered mind. He never wanted this moment to end. He wanted to cling to her and never let go. This is what he had been missing. This is what it felt like to really be alive. God he felt so alive. Judy suddenly felt a cold rush of air against her neck as Tom's warmth moved away. She opened her eyes and they met his looking down at her. Those eyes held no sadness, no fear and no pain. What they held was love and contentment and as she studied his face she realised that for first time in too long he was actually smiling down at her. There was no distance, no wall and no barriers. All the characters and costumes had been disguarded and he was really there with her, more so than any man she had ever been with. The light in his eyes was shining again as he looked on her and she suddenly thought uneasily of how candles always seemed to glow brightest just before they burnt out. But she pushed this thought away as, with that same soft smile still on his face, his mouth closed over hers once again and left her breathless sending what felt like a thousand bolts shooting through her, her hands clutching at his back and shoulders. And when she felt him sliding into her, it was like coming home, like she had never before felt so close to anyone.

(Now this is where the camera would zoom out and give them some privacy, so close your eyes and look away children. ;0)

Later they lay together tired but content, Tom's heavy head resting on Judy's shoulder and her arms wrapped around him. He knew he had let things go too far, get too complicated, maybe more so than he could handle. He struggled to push these thoughts out of his mind. It could wait. Right now, feeling safe and warm in Judy's arms, it didn't matter.

"Where are you?" Judy said suddenly as she felt him seem to drift away.

"I'm right here." he said sleepily. "I'm sorry. I'm tired."

"It's ok. Go to sleep, I'm right here. I'll watch over you." Smiling softly at her he let his heavy eyes close. After a few moments in which Judy just lay listening to him breath, she heard his sleepy voice floating up to her.

"Judy?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not giving up on me." With a smile on her face she bent her head to his ear and whispered softly.

"You're welcome. Go to sleep."

She watched him sleep for what seemed like hours, watching his face that at that moment looked so calm and at peace, finding herself fascinated that all that passion could come from someone who claimed to be used and empty. But as had so often been the case his appearance felt so at odds with what was going on under the surface. She knew that however peaceful he looked right now the second he woke up it would all come rushing back and he would have to face it all head on. She suddenly felt fiercely protective of the man sleeping in her arms and , as if she could actually see those daemons hovering over him waiting for their chance, she held him as tight and close as she possibly could wishing that protecting him could be just that simple.


	21. Chapter 21

**Sorry it's been so long. I have had a really hard time writing this chapter, kinda wrote myself into a bit of a whole. Hope you like it.**

**Andaere - thank you so much, I love your reviews lol. I'm really glad you like that last chapter, I've never written one of those you-know-what scenes. It's actually why I've been so long updating. I was sure how to get out of it cos I kinda don't want them together, at least not this time (maybe in the sequel, I haven't decided). Anyway, hope it was worth the wait xx**

Finding herself completely incapable of sleeping herself, Judy passed the time watching Tom. Shortly after she was sure he was in deep sleep she slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, left the couch and dressed, the nights were still cold and the noise of the rain outside had only added to the chill she felt. After covering the sleeping form on the couch with a blanket, she kneeled beside him studying the rise and fall of his chest as he drew in breath, trying not to think about how close he had come to drawing his last. She glanced round his apartment, taking in the chaos that was so unlike the guy she had known and loved, like somehow his surroundings had changed to reflect what was going on inside. She briefly toyed with the idea of trying to clear away some of the mess, thinking restoring a bit of order to his surroundings may help, but realizing she really didn't want to let him out of her sight, she remained knelt beside him. Her eyes drifted over his face, the pale light now creeping in through the window casting shadows over his features, making the pale skin seem almost white and causing the lashes that brushed the high cheekbones to stand out more vividly than ever. Under those closed lids, she could see the movement of his eyes as he shifted restlessly. She wondered what he was dreaming and whether she should wake him. More honestly she wondered who she would be waking. Would it be Tom's eyes that opened to look back at her? Or would it be the eyes of that angry tormented stranger who had only a few hours ago held a gun to his own head? Maybe it would be the broken and desperate child who had clung to her so needing reassurance. Maybe it wouldn't be either of them. And what would she do with him when he did wake up? On once again catching sight of the wounds on his arm she realized that nothing that had happened between them could fix what was wrong, or erase the memory of the pain in those wide eyes, or the frightening way he had switched so erratically between those different versions of him she had had to deal with the night before. She wasn't sure she had the strength to deal with any of them. She found herself wondering how on earth Doug had coped when they had been trapped back there. She couldn't imagine what he had been through. Bleeding to death, unable to walk, and the only person you have to help you is completely out of his mind. But he'd done it. They were both out, maybe not safe and sound, but they were both still with them. She said a silent thank you and felt a sudden rush of affection for her loud bear like friend. She was going to need Doug's help, she knew that. There was no way she was going to be able to see Tom through this on her own. One thing was for sure, and that was that he needed more help than she could ever give him.

She reached out and smoothed the errant hair away from his face, being careful not to knock the wound on his forehead. As she watched him, she couldn't help but think of the way he had looked at her as they lay tangled together. How she had seen only him in those eyes for the first time in too long, and how for that brief moment he had actually seemed happy. The idea that she had given him that moment, no matter how brief, brought a small smile to her face. She just wished that the man she had held in her arms for the last couple of hours would be the one looking back at her when those eyes opened.

But in the end to her it didn't matter. He had been her rock when she had been going through hell and, if he let her, she was going to be his, starting now.

She knew that she shouldn't have let him sleep so long, but as she watched him he looked so peaceful, and when she remembered how distressed he'd been it seemed cruel to bring him back to all that. Not daring to leave him any longer she leaned over him and gently called out.

"Tom?". When she received no response she felt her stomach rise into her throat. "Hey come on" she said placing her hand on his arm and gently shaking him. "Hanson!", she almost yelled. His hand shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist as he shot up, his face white and his eyes wide with panic.

As he forced his heavy eyes open, desperate to see what it was that had hold of him, the faint light seared his still too sensitive eyes, the headache that had been slowly developing was now a full on assault team pounding in his brain. His eyes were still fuzzy and when he opened them all he could make out were the shadows looming over him, making the other person in the room with him appear larger and more threatening. For a second an irrational and uncontrollable fear took hold of him, that he was still in prison and they had finally decided to come for him. He let out a choked yell and tried to break free of the hand that had hold of him.

"Hey, it's ok." Judy said calmly, slowly releasing his grip and wrapping her arms around him "It's just me."

"Judy?" he croaked, looking at her in confusion, blinking as his eyes struggled to focus.

"Yeah, it's me." she swallowed, nervously watching his face as his eyes searched hers. "Who were you expecting?"

"No one." he replied glancing round the room uneasily before turning towards her and flashing a rather unconvincing smile. "Thanks for staying." he said smiling softly and taking hold of her hand.

"No problem." she smiled, feeling slightly relived that he seemed to be himself so far at least. "How you feeling?" she asked cautiously.

She was answered by a series of groans as he turned away and buried his head in the cushions to keep the light from his eyes.

"Are you going to stay there all day?" she asked smiling slightly as she stood and tried to stretch out the stiffness in her back. Tom's old couch hadn't really been designed to sleep two people.

"No. Just until my head stops feeling like I went to a party but missed all the fun." came the muffled reply. Suddenly a shooting pain through his aching head sent a wave of uncontrollable nausea racing through his guts, resulting in an alarming attack of dry retching which brought Judy racing to his side.

"Take deep breaths." she said taking his head in her hands and looking calmly into his eyes. "You really should still be in the hospital."

"No. I'm ok." he replied.

"_Aren't you tired of that same old lie? You're far from OK my friend."_

"Stop it." he whispered, his breath seeming to leave him instantly as the world around him seemed to drift away.

"_You're unbalanced, you know that don't you? They should have put you away months ago. You should never have been allowed to walk free in the first place. That poor kid and his family would still be ok."_

"Tom? Can you hear me?" he heard Judy's concerned voice breaking through the fog in his mind.

"Yeah." he replied shakily.

"Where were you?"

"Nowhere. Just talk to me Judy, please. It's easier to shut out if you talk to me."

"I'm calling the doctor." she told him decisively.

"No. No doctors Judy. You promised I didn't have to do anything I didn't want."

"You don't mess with head injuries, Tom."

"_It's a bit late to be worrying about that isn't it?"_

"What?" he said distantly.

"What do you mean what? Tom, you were shot in the head last night for Christ's sake."

"It wasn't just a bad dream was it?" he said softly as he gazed at her with those wide eyes.

"I'm afraid not." she said as she took his shaking hand in hers, distressed by how cold it felt.

"It doesn't seem real. Everything's so fuzzy and muddled. I really killed him didn't I?"

"I'm sorry."

"What am I going to do?"

"You don't have to think about that right now. Please let me take you back to hospital." she pleaded, as she wound her fingers round his.

"No. The only reason I'm going back there is to see Doug."

"Tom , you're in no fit state for anything…"

" It's just a headache. A bitch of a headache, but that's all. Really, don't worry."

"I'll get you some aspirin." she said uncertainly as she handed him the T Shirt and boxers that had been disguarded a few hours before. "Here, as much as I like the view, the last thing you need is to catch cold as well."

"Top shelf in the bathroom cabinet." he mumbled, struggling to sit up, his head having trouble deciding whether it was a cloud or a ten tonne weight.

Judy headed to the bathroom and as she opened the door she was hit by a flood of memories of the last time she had been in this room.

"You don't have time for this", she told herself. "Pull yourself together, that guy in there needs you". Shaking herself and pushing them away she opened the cabinet, pulled out the first thing that resembled aspirin and walked back to Tom, who was now slightly more decent.

"Here you go." she said handing him the aspirin before going to the kitchen to fill a glass with water, regularly glancing over her shoulder, reluctant to take her eyes of him for even a moment.

As he watched her Tom found himself slightly disturbed by how easily she found her way around his place and how right it seemed that she be there. So why did it feel so wrong?

"_Stop her sport. She's making a huge mistake. Don't destroy her like you have everything else."_

"Hey, I've just realised" she began as she handed the glass to him, doing her best to appear much brighter and relaxed than she felt, trying not to let him see her concern. Trying for once to behave like regular people do. "That's the second time I've spent the night at your apartment and I still haven't seen your bedroom" she said with a sly grin on her face as she made for the door she had seen him disappear through that night all those months ago. Sadness suddenly descended on him and he let his head fall into his hands.

"_What gives you the right to be happy after all the pain you've caused?"_

"Judy, stop.", he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"What's wrong? You afraid I'm about to find out all your sordid little secrets Tom?" A strange expression passed over his face as she looked over at him.

"What?"

"You never call me Tom."

"Well I figure since I've seen you naked that at least puts us on first name terms. You over reacted when Doug shot you by the way. From that scar I'm guessing it was barely even a flesh wound" she smiled not noticing the sick look on his face.

"_Step up to your door little fish, your sweet ass is mine."_

"They never got me. They never got me." he told himself under his breath, trying to force it away.

"What did you say?" Judy asked turning to face him.

"Nothing." he replied nervously, forcing a smile to his face.

"Don't tell me those pink sheets are all you're hiding." she said mischievously as she placed her hand on the door handle, her voice cutting through the fog.

"What do you want from me Judy?" he said suddenly

"Well, that depends on what you're offering." she said suggestively.

"Don't place any bets on me ok."

"Isn't that my choice?" she said, confusion clouding her features. Hanson just looked at her, struck by her strength and by how much he loved and needed this girl. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

"Not this time." he said, rising from the couch and walking over to the kitchen.

"Tom are you trying to break up with me?" she said laughing in disbelief.

"How can I do that when we're not together?" he snapped. "I can't do this right now. I can't be what you need and I can't ask you to take on my baggage."

"And I don't get a say in this?"

"I'm sorry."

"So it's one night, thank you very much and goodbye?"

"It's the way it has to be."

"Tom, you look me in the eyes and tell me last night didn't mean as much to you as it did to me."

"Do you want me to lie to you?" he snapped as he slammed down the glass of water. He turned to the cupboard and grabbed the first bottle he saw and downed the aspirin.

"_Why not? You've gotten pretty good at it. Keep going and you can convince yourself you're not really a murderer."_

"It would make a change from lying to yourself." she spat, "And that's not going to do you any good" she said snatching the whiskey from his hand.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Ok, fine. Go ahead. Drink all you want, make the world go away, but it'll still be there when it wears off, and so will I."

"Then I'm gonna need a lot more aren't I."

"Stop this, and talk to me please."

"Fine. Last night meant a lot to me, but I should never have let it happen. I care about you a lot ok. I will always care about you and I will always be there for you but..."

"As a friend."

"It's all I've got to give."

"You don't get to do this to me Tom. I've watched you push people away for years, well this one doesn't run as easy."

"Maybe you should."

"What are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

"Yes you are. Tom, you won't even look at me." she said bringing those cold distant eyes round to focus on her, sending cold shivers up her spine. She suddenly began to ache for her friend, the man she had held so tightly just that short time ago, even mourned for him, despite him seemingly standing there before her. She took a deep breath and met his empty stare. "You're scared that whatever there is between us might just work. God forbid you'd have to be happy cos then you'd have to stop making yourself suffer and wallow in self pity, living your life with one foot out the door because you feel you deserve it."

"Maybe I do."

"Tom, you have to stop punishing yourself. You've suffered enough, no matter what it is you think you deserve, it isn't this. No one else would have things any differently."

"No one else had the chance." he snapped, angry that she should be making excuses for him.

"Well if you carry on this way you're going to end up old and alone."

"Maybe I deserve that too."

"Why are you pushing me away?" she cried in frustration.

"Because if you get too close you might not like what you find. Judy, I'm not what you think. I'm not a good person."

"Listen to me Tom, because someone has got to get through to you somehow. How many times am I going to have to tell you that none of this was ever your fault. These things happen. It's horrible and unfair, but it's what we chose when we became police officers. You're going to have to get through this, and to do that you need us. You need me. You can't keep playing with people and forcing them away just because you're scared to let them in. Don't I mean anything to you?"

"Of course you do. But its better this way, rather than months or even years down the line you find out you've made a big mistake when you realise what I really am".

"Tom, where is this all coming from. There's not a malicious bone in your body."

"So one quick fumble on my couch and you think you know me?" he spat.

"No. But over four years of working with you, watching you and being your friend I think I know you pretty well." she said calmly, trying to defuse this situation, whatever it was. "And you're not a bad person."

"Oh take off those rose tinted glasses Hoffs. I'm not your perfect little idol."

"I never thought you were."

"Yes you did. You all did. I don't get to make mistakes, I don't get to be human. I get to be the example. The one who supposed to fix everything. I've tried so hard to be what you all wanted, to be everything you expected from me, but I can't do it anymore. You placed me on this pedestal and it's my fault when I fall off. Well, guess what Judy, it's too high and I've got vertigo. So why don't you find someone else to climb up here so I can go back to being me."

"Tom, I love you, let me help you."

"Don't say that." he said almost pleading. "You can't possibly mean that after what I've done. How could you love a murderer? Cos that's what I am. I didn't just stand by and let it happen, I was the one who pulled the trigger."

"You're not a murderer. No one thinks that of you, and you know I love you. You've known that from the start."

"You don't love me Judy. You love this image you've created of me."

"This is me you're talking to Hanson."

"I know who I'm talking to" he said, more for his benefit than hers.

"You're not talking to some teenaged girl with a crush."

"I know that."

"I've seen your best and I've seen your worst."

"You think so do you?" he asked, a strange light playing in his eyes.

"OK. So what have I got wrong?"

"EVERYTHING!" he yelled at her, making her jump. "I've spent my life lying and cheating. How many lives have I ruined Judy. For god's sake, I killed someone yesterday. I tore apart a whole family. I put a bullet through a child and I'm not sorry. It's not the only time I've wanted to do it either."

"That time you were upset about Amy. And you didn't kill that guy, you did the right thing."

"That's not what I mean."

"Ok. Tell me" she said keeping her voice level, trying to keep him calm.

"Why do you think I went to Towers house that night?"

"You were looking for evidence."

"No smoke without fire Jude."

"Don't be ridiculous Hanson. Farrell killed Tower. They proved it."

"Who proved it Judy?"

"Doug and Booker" she said with a sigh, suddenly feeling very tired. A strange smile lit Hanson's face as he edged closer towards her.

"Exactly. How desperate do you think Doug was to get me out of prison?"

"He wasn't happy about you being in there if that's what you mean."

"Desperate enough to tamper with evidence?"

"I'm not listening to this nonsense?" she said laughing in Hanson's face in disbelief.

"Why do you think they couldn't find the bullet?" He didn't know where all this was coming from but he had to make her understand.

"Do you really expect me to believe all this?"

"You believed it easily enough to begin with."

"Yeah, well there was reason."

"And there isn't now?"

"I'm not scared of you Tom." she said not sounding quite convinced as he continued to close the distance between them.

"Maybe you should be. I might not have killed Tower, but I went there with every intention of doing so."

"You don't have it in you."

"Really? I've just killed someone Judy. A few months back I stood and watched as a 21 year old kid was pumped full of poison until he was dead and I felt nothing." he sneered, "Tell me something detective. Just how do you think that knife got into Casey's hands in the first place?"

"I don't know."

"He got it from me. I took it in there. Just a little while before I was the one who was holding it to Doug's throat. Did you think I had that in me?" he said quietly as he backed her against the wall.

"No, you don't!" she said softly.

"_She really thinks you're not a killer."_ came the mocking laughter. "_Did she not see that poor kid spread across the floor last night? Does she not remember that you have nearly killed your best friend twice this week? How long before you hurt her?"_

"I don't have it in me? I also nearly drove him under a lorry remember. I hurt everyone around me Judy." he said coldly, "How do you know next time it won't be you?"

"Because I trust you. I know you wouldn't hurt any of us." she said quietly. "Now tell me what's going on in there." she said reaching out to brush the hair from his face, causing him to flinch and knock her hand away.

"Listen to me you stupid, blind naive bitch!" he screamed, his face inches away from hers. "I've tried to do this nicely, to give you an easy way out but you just won't listen. I don't love you ok. I've never loved anyone. I'm not capable do you understand? I couldn't love Amy enough to save her and I couldn't love Jackie enough to forgive her."

"What about Linda? You telling me you felt nothing for her?" she said, trying to keep the waver out of her voice.

"I did once. I tried to again. Told myself that I was still in love her. I thought that I could find who I used to be if I could only make myself believe that. But really I felt nothing." he said distantly, seeming not to notice she was still there.

"And what about Amy? All that grief and hurt was just an act was it?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." he spat, those unnerving eyes focusing on hers once again. "I should have saved her but I didn't try. I should have done more to help Kenny, I should have tried harder to help Ronnie and Mattie but I didn't. I let them all die. Now they're in here", he said tapping a finger to his head. "I see them whenever I close my eyes, and do you think I feel guilty? I don't. I hate them. I hate them because they show me for what I really am. I hate them because their sufferings over and I have to keep paying for what I did to them. So you can tell yourself all the lies you want to if it'll keep this perfect image of me in your head, but don't kid yourself Judy, this isn't going to have a happy ending. You know, everyday I have to force myself through it, remind myself to breath. I wake up every morning and curse god for not taking me in my sleep. It's dead in here" he yelled hitting his fist against his chest. "All that's left is anger and hatred. You still want to be a part of this? Do you?" he yelled grabbing her arms and pulling her roughly towards him. "Look into my eyes and tell me what you see now, Judy."

"Let go of me" she said her voice beginning to waver.

"I thought you wanted to be with me."

"This isn't you."

"This is me Judy. I told you that you wouldn't like what you found."

"Hanson, you're ill. You need to let us help you. We can't keep going round in circles."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to talk to Tom."

"I can't find him Judy." he said, his face softening and his eyes widening, filling his pale face. "I let them kill him too."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did. That kid was right," he said thinking back to his dream and the sixteen year old version of himself saying those very words, his own dark eyes looking back at him accusingly. "But I had to. It was the only way. If I hadn't we would both have died in there. Now he's gone."

"No he hasn't"

"You really believe that? Come on Judy, you know as well as I do that the guy you remember isn't standing here right now. He would never have been capable of doing the things I've done. He would never have hurt Doug and he would never have been able to cause you even the smallest amount of pain. You're just talking to a hollowed out shell with a number instead of a name."

"He's in there, I know he is. We can look for him together ok?" she said, reaching up and taking his head in her hands. No sooner had she done so than she immediately regretted it. She could almost see it, that imperceptible flicker as his eyes darkened and his features twisted with anger and disgust. It was as if Tom had been hollowed out and that twisted stranger had filled the void.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me again." he yelled, ripping her hands away, his grip nearly breaking her wrists.

"Hanson, you're hurting me." she said, remembering how those hands had touched her so differently only that short time ago. How could it have all gone so wrong so fast?

"Your white knight's armour's not so shiny anymore is it?" he said with a twisted smile playing on his lips. "Get out of my way Hanson." she said looking coldly into his eyes, as she struggled to break his hold.

"Where are you going Judy? I thought this was what you wanted."

"Get out of my way." she said, her voice shaking.

"You said you wanted to help me. Are you just going to run away now that things have got a little too rough? Or is it just that now you've had me you've lost interest?"

"You know that's not true."

"If you hurry you might catch Fuller on his own, you can complete the full set."

"Why are you trying to hurt me?"

"It's what I do, Judy. I keep telling you that but you don't seem to want to listen." he said stepping back from her and walking back over the broken glass on the floor. As he saw it catch the light he bent down and picked up one of the larger pieces, turning it over in his hand and smiling that eerie smile that seemed so out of place on his youthful features, as Judy stood against the wall, watching him as she tried to get some kind of hold on herself.

"I cut myself pretty badly on a piece of glass just like this not so long ago." he said, sounding to Hoffs as if he was a million miles away.

"What do you mean?" she asked nervously.

"It was so easy. It didn't even hurt." he continued dreamily, "Do you think it hurt Casey when he died?"

"I don't know." she replied massaging her temples with her fingers, trying to rid herself of the image of those cuts she had noticed on Hanson's arm. "Tom, those cut's on your arm, did you do that with the glass?"

"No. I used a knife, the same one I nearly killed Doug with." he answered before letting out a bark of hysterical laughter. "Funny how things turn out isn't it?"

"You cut yourself?!" she yelled in disbelief.

"It was the only way to get it all out."

"Get what out?"

"All the dirt and poison that's gotten in to my blood. I have to get it out you see, and that's the only way."

"There's nothing wrong with your blood."

"Yes there is. They were right about me. Everything they said."

"Tom, you've got to help me out here, because none of this makes any sense."

"And you think it makes sense to me? You think I have even the slightest clue what's going on here? You think I wanted any of this. It feels like there's a hole in my head and my minds sifting through it like grains of sand. I can't even remember what I'm doing from one minute to the next. I can see myself doing these things and I can't stop."

"It's going to be ok, Hanson. You can get through this. But you have to fight it."

"And just how am I meant to do that? How can you fight something you can't see?"

"You can do it. You're strong and we're all here for you."

"Strong?" he said dropping the glass and whirling round to face her. "You think I'm strong?" he continued as he slowly walked towards her, fiddling with the clasp on the leather band round his wrist. "You know one thing prison teaches you is about who you really are. It tears away all the illusions, everything you ever believed about yourself, and all that's left is the dirt beneath. All that's left is the guy who huddled cowering and whimpering in a corner when they came for him. The pathetic figure who starts sweating when he hears the sound of a key turning in a lock, who wants to scream every time the lights go out. The coward who allows people to die before his eyes. I'm not strong Judy. All I am is weak and scared. The only reason I'm still here is because I wasn't strong enough to end it." he continued distantly, anger and disgust flashing in his eyes. "You really want to know what I used the glass for Judy?"

"What did you do Tom?" she asked swallowing nervously.

"There." he grinned, pulling the band away to reveal the bandage around his too thin wrist, before beginning to remove the bandage itself. "How strong do you think I am now detective?" he asked holding out his injured wrist for her to see, the jagged gash burning into her retinas and making her feel sick.

"Oh Hanson," she sobbed, wanting to reach out and wrap her arms around him, anything to erase this unrecognizable cold and distant young man stood before her. "Why didn't you tell us it had gotten this bad?"

"Because crazy people don't have very good judgment." he spat.

"I don't think you're crazy. None of us do". This statement was met by cold laughter.

"Do you not see this?" he said waving his arm around. "If you think this is something a sane person does then you're all as nuts as I am aren't you? You all did this you know, all of you." he said turning away from her and picking up the glass that seemed to hold so much fascination for him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. You left me to rot in that hell hole." he said once again turning towards her, his eyes blazing almost black with hatred, as he edged back towards her. "Then they chipped away bit by bit until I broke. I'm in pieces Judy, and I can't find all the shards to put back together again. Then you all expect me to carry on with a smile on my face as if nothing has happened, to carry on being the person you remember. But I can't, and you all pushed and pushed until I cracked. Are you happy now?" he yelled grabbing hold of her and slamming her back against the wall, the jagged piece of glass inches from her throat..

"_Who are you going to have to hurt to make her see what you are? What will take? Hurting her?"_

"Are you scared now?" he whispered close to her ear as he tightened his grip on her and slowly moving the glass before her eyes.

"I've told you, I'll never be scared of you." she said swallowing nervously.

"Really? They say killing gets easier after the first time. Besides, you know the great thing about being a nutball is that I could cut you to shreds and in a couple of hours I'll have blocked it out."

"Stop this and let me help you."

"You're starting to sound like a broken record." he said icily. "Doug couldn't help me, Fuller couldn't help me, what makes you think you can?"

"I don't know." she said sounding lost and defeated.

"If you really wanted to help me you'd have stopped me killing that kid last night."

"I'm sorry. I wish we had have got there sooner, but it's done now. You have to get past this."

"What if I don't want to?" he said staring at the glass as it continued its slow swing before Judy's terrified eyes. "What if I think I deserve to suffer?"

"Then you're just proving my point." she said shakily. "I know you're still in there. And I know how much you care. It's obvious when you see how much you're hurting."

"I don't want to care. Look what it gets you."

"But you do care. I've seen it. The way to look out for us all, the way you try your best to help people."

"So where are all these people I'm meant to have helped? Show me, because I can't see them anywhere. The only people I can see are the ones whose lives I ended." he seethed, his grip on the glass causing his bandaged hand to bleed once again. "They're everywhere." he continued as his eyes glazed over and his voice began to sound miles and miles away. "They're in my dreams and in my head. They never stop."

"I'll help you make them stop."

"I tried to do that last night. But you stopped me." he said, snapping back to focus on her. "I tried to make this easy on all of us, but Doug stopped me too, every time." he said becoming more distressed. "I asked you all to leave me in that place last night but you dragged me out anyway. You say you love me and want to help me, but you all just want me suffer."

"No we don't."

"STOP LYING TO ME!" he yelled and pressed the glass against her windpipe, a thin sliver of crimson began running down her neck as she stared stonily into his cold eyes.

"Hanson, let me go" she said sternly. He pulled his hands away like they had been burned and stared at her, his eyes scared and confused.

"_There you go. I told you it was only a matter of time till you ruined her too."_

"_How the hell could you have let me turn into you?"_ came the voice of his teenaged self echoing from his dream.

"Get out" he croaked still staring at his hands as he let the glass fall to the floor.

"I'm not leaving you in this state."

"I said get the fuck out of here!" he almost screamed in her face.

She pushed past him in a panic as she saw the hate etched into his features, grabbing her keys and jacket before heading towards the door.

"Tom, I care about you too much to give up on you and I promise I will always be there for you." she said pulling the door open keeping her back to him. "Just do me a favour Tom. Get someone who can help you, or next time you want comforting find someone else to run to because this isn't fair. Not to either of us. I can't watch you do this to yourself" she almost wept. Then she turned round and met his eyes, hoping to see some glimmer of the man she knew in there somewhere.

"I meant it Tom. I do love you."

"I know." he said calmly, "And hate you for it."

Judy looked at him and smiled sadly before she turned and fled slamming the door behind her. Hanson stood in the middle of the room watching the empty space where she had been standing.

"I'm sorry Judy" he whispered.

_"Too little too late pal!"_

"You're supposed to have gone. They promised."

"_You may have fooled the shrink and you might have fooled Fuller. Hell you've nearly succeeded in convincing yourself but you can't fool her. She can see it. You're absolutely certifiable my friend."_

"I'm not crazy!" he said weakly as he reached for the bottle Judy had ripped from his hand.

"_Time to stop lying Tommy."_

He lifted the bottle to lips but stopped as the look on Judy's face flashed before his eyes. Staggering over to the kitchen he poured the remainder of the bottle down the drain before he slumped against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He could still see her fear and horror, as if her face had been tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. It was then he realised he had lied when he told Judy he was incapable of feeling anything, cos he was pretty sure he just felt his heart break. Why did he keep hurting everyone he loved? Why couldn't he stop? Well, he couldn't do it anymore. He wouldn't do it anymore. He just hoped they'd be able to forgive him.

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He decided to wait until he was sure she would be at be at work before going to get his car. The last thing he wanted right now was to have to face Judy again. He thought about calling a cab but decided that the walk would do him good. May help clear his head before he had to deal with taking Clavo to see Doug, the last thing the poor kid needed was to have to deal with a lunatic. As he walked the events of the past few days, months, years whirled through his mind and as they did all he wanted was to wipe them away.

He carried on down the street concentrating on the sound and rhythm of his footsteps, trying to block everything out.

_"I'm disappointed in you sport. I raised you better than to treat women that way."_

_"She asked for it. She wouldn't listen. You had to make her understand somehow."_

"_You could have killed her. How could do that to someone you say you love? Maybe you don't love her. Is that it?"_

"I'm not listening."

_"Not the golden boy anymore are you Tommy?"_

He carried on doggedly, placing his hands over his ears trying to block them out. They weren't real, he knew that. So why did they scare him so badly? Because most of the time he knew they were right.

_"You ruin everything you touch. You know that don't you?"_

"It's all in my head, it's not real. It's all in my head, it's not real." he began chanting as his pace quickened, trying to leave them behind.

"I'm the one in control." he began whispering, remembering what the shrink had told him, trying to make himself believe it.

"_Doesn't look like you're in control to me." _came the reply as he broke into a run.

When he felt like he couldn't run anymore he sunk down on the side of the pavement, bringing his knees up to his chest and letting his head drop to rest on them, trying to make himself as small as possible. Maybe if he screwed himself up small enough no one would be able to see him. How the hell was he meant to face them again anyway? He didn't know if he even could. He kept seeing the fear and shock in Judy's eyes and hearing the hurt in her voice and it made him feel sick to his stomach. How could he have done that to her?

"_Because you're as bad as the ones you put away. You say your saving the world from them, yet here you are walking around taking the lives of scared innocent children and causing nothing but pain for the ones you love."_

"I did it to save Doug. I did it for Clavo."

"_That's bullshit and you know it. You weren't thinking about Clavo, you weren't even concerned for Doug. You did it for yourself, because you couldn't deal with losing the one person who never lost faith in you. He never stopped believing in you and how do you repay him?"_

"Fuck you!"

"_You blame him and everyone else for your mistakes. Can't take the responsibility yourself can you? It was you that turned your life into a lie. You took everything you believed in and twisted and polluted it. You made everything you stand for meaningless."_

"I swear to god I'm going to cut you out."

"_Try it."_

No matter how much he tried he couldn't deny it. They were right. About everything. Most of all, they were right when they said he needed Doug, needed his trust and his friendship. Needed the unfailing blind faith he seemed to have in him, although God knows why?. When it came down to it, as much as the idea of Judy hating him made his battered heart hurt, he felt he could live with it, god knows he deserved her hate. But the idea of Doug hating him was unthinkable, he wouldn't be able to bear it. Still, he had nearly killed him, and because of him he was lying full of holes in a hospital bed.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts as he heard footsteps coming along the pavement towards him, but he paid no attention to them until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and jumped to his feet, whirling round and glowering at the stranger stood before him.

"Are you ok?" the strange man in the tweed jacket asked looking him nervously up and down

"Don't touch me!" he seethed through gritted teeth.

"Hey, I'm sorry, you just looked kinda ill. You need some help?"

"No, I don't need help. Get the hell away from me and leave me alone."

"No problem pal." the man said before stalking past him. "Pshyco!" he muttered under his breath.

Tom watched him disappear into the distance before once again crumpling to the pavement. He was scared now, he didn't mind admitting it, as for the first time he allowed himself to realise that he was very defiantly ill. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bottle the doctor had given him. So this was his future? No control over his own actions, thoughts or feelings. Kept rational and functioning only by pills. Dependant on drugs, just like some deadbeat smack head.

"I really am crazy" he said to himself as he stared at the label.

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Fuller was sat in his office early the next morning, feeling as if he had only just left. Having had a restless and troubled night, worry about his various young officers causing his mind to race constantly, he looked tired and haggard as he held the phone to his ear trying to concentrate on the voice at the other end.

He had spent most of the morning so far with the receiver seemingly glued to his ear. Phone calls from IAD, and updates from Harry had been relentless. Now as he sat listening to the voice of Rich Stanford he was startled by the door to his office being thrown open and a distraught looking Judy Hoffs striding through the doorway. He held up his hand and threw her an impatient glance to signal her silence before turning his attention back to the man on the other end of the phone. He could see she was troubled, but so was everyone else. A lot of people he cared about had suffered a great deal recently and the least he owed them was to make sure they hadn't suffered in vain.

Judy stood watching him, her hands balled into fists and entire body shaking with fear and anger as she listened to him.

"Any news on Petrelli?" she heard Fuller ask, the look on his face as he listened to the answer told her everything she needed to know. "None at all?" Fuller said sounding tired and dejected as he rubbed at his temples.

"Have they agreed to talk?"…….."Yeah? Well how about we give them a good reason to be afraid." Fuller yelled at the response, making Hoffs jump 10 feet in the air. "I know" he said more calmly……….."They're as well as can be expected. Don't worry, we'll take care of them."……"Sure I will, and thanks Stamford." he said before placing the phone back in it's cradle.

"That was Stanford. He wanted to know how Tom and Doug are doing." he told her, his usual deep booming voice sounding small and exhausted.

"That's the least they can do. They were the one's who lost them. If it wasn't for them none of this would have happened."

"And if we had gotten there even two minutes earlier it wouldn't have got as far as it did." he snapped back. "This isn't the time for laying the blame."

"Have they found Petrelli?" she asked coldly.

"No. He seems to have disappeared again. His men aren't talking either. They're scared apparently." he finished bitterly.

"What about the others?"

"They'll do time. How much depends on how much they cooperate."

"What about Hanson? What happens to him?"

"Nothing. Hanson's done nothing wrong and IAD agree with that. He won't face any further questioning or investigation."

"And what about his other problems?"

"What do you mean?"

"Captain, I know he's not well. For god's sake, last night I had to talk him out of putting a bullet through his head." Fullers head shot up from the desk and he glared at Judy with wide frightened eyes.

"Dammit, he promised me he wouldn't try anything like that again."

"Again? Captain Fuller, what's wrong with Tom?" she asked coldly. "And don't spin me any lies or sugar coat it Captain. I've seen the scars and I've seen his wrist, I'm not stupid."

"So you know."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you needed to know."

"Didn't need to know? Captain, you and Doug aren't the only ones who care about him you know."

"I know. I'm sorry. How did you…"

"He showed me."

"Hanson showed you?"

" He was in pieces last night Captain. Then this morning I must have had conversations with at least five different guys, one of which was close to tearing my head clean off."

"You spent the night with Hanson?"

"On the couch Captain." she said, trying to sound offended, although it already seemed like another lifetime ago, and technically she wasn't lying,. "Don't change the subject. I need to know. What's wrong with him?" Fuller took a deep breath and seemed to age right before her eyes.

"Judy, Tom's had a breakdown. From what the doctor said it's a pretty serious one"

"And you didn't think you should tell us? Jesus, Fuller, last night I had to stop him blowing his head off. If I hadn't have stayed with him he probably would have."

"He didn't want people knowing Hoffs. What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't think we can do anything Captain. Nothing seems to get through to him." she said before eyeing him knowingly, "Except the people in his head right?"

"What?"

"He's hearing voices isn't he?"

"Apparently so" he said wearily. "Was he really bad?" Fuller swallowed, feeling sick to his stomach.

"I've never been so frightened in all my life." she sobbed as she sat down heavily in the chair in front of Fuller's desk. "He held a piece of broken glass to my throat Captain. I never thought I'd be scared of Hanson, but for a moment I really thought he was going to hurt me."

"Tom would never do that Judy."

"I know, but I don't think he has much say over anything anymore. I'm telling you, it was like he wasn't even there." she said trying to calm herself down.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm ok. He didn't actually hurt me, I'm just a little shaken."

"You should have called me. I'd have come over."

"I don't think it would have helped", she said wiping at her tears. "He's had so much to deal with Captain. His dad, Amy, all those kids he feels responsible for, and you know he's not over being locked up. Now on top of that he's killed someone. It's too much and the weight of it is crushing him. Can't we do something?"

"Like what?"

"Get him to see someone."

"He already has Judy, he's under the psychiatric department at county. They put him on medication immediately. They said it would help him manage better."

"Well it didn't. If he's even taking it that is." Judy said angrily through her tears. "What are we going to do? I don't think he can be trusted on his own, and he sure as hell won't let us watch over him day and night. I tried to and he nearly cut my throat."

"Then we get him somewhere where someone can." Fuller sighed, feeling defeated.

"What do you mean?" Judy asked, raising her head, "You mean put him in a mental hospital? We can't do that can we?"

"The doctor recommended that to Tom himself." Fuller replied. He couldn't believe he was saying it, but he was out of ideas. If Tom wouldn't let them help him, they'd have to see to it that he had no choice.

"Isn't there any other way?"

"Can you think of one."

"No." she said sadly wiping at her eyes, unable to believe they were having this conversation. "He could do anything if left on his own. I think he's proved that already" she finished, images of Hanson holding the gun to his head and the awful gashes on his arm and wrist.

"I'll talk to his doctor first. If there's another way, Judy, I'll find one."

She watched in silence as Fuller picked up the phone. He waited for what seemed like hours on hold before the voice of Hanson's doctor came traveling down the line.

"Captain Fuller? What can I do for you?"

Fuller then proceeded to spill out all that Judy had told him, and as she watched Judy thought she could see her captain aging right before her eyes. His figure seemed to slump and shrink with every new detail, as if hearing the words coming from his own mouth rather than hers somehow made it undeniable, and she suddenly felt so angry towards Hanson that she could have rung his neck right there and then. That was, if she didn't love him so damn much.

"How about you explain why you told me he wasn't a danger and then the next thing we know he has a gun to his head and nearly kills another one of his partners?" she heard Fuller's voice cutting through her thoughts. "You said the medication was supposed to help with that." he said sounding more and more frustrated. "I don't know if he's taking them…..I can't keep track of him every second of the day…..so what do you suggest…….are you sure……..there's no other way?….He won't go for that, trust me….I'll try….as soon as I can….thank you doctor." he said hanging up the phone with a tired sigh.

"What did he say?"

"He wants Tom in for another assessment."

"No chance. You know Hanson, Captain, he won't go."

"Then we'll have to take the decision out of his hands."

"You mean section him? We can't do that to Tom."

"Judy…."

"We can't." she said vehemently. "Anyway, we're not next of kin. It has to be a family member doesn't it?"

"Then lets get a family member." Fuller said picking up the phone.

"Are you sure this is for the best?"

"I can't let him hurt himself or anyone else Judy."

"I know. It's just…..Captain it's Hanson."

"That's the problem Judy, it isn't really is it?" he said placing a comforting hand on hers before he began rifling through his desk draw for the old phone book he kept in there. Then, finding the number he was looking for he took a deep breath and smiled briefly at Hoffs before dialing once again. He had barely spoken to Margaret Hanson in all the years he had known her son and when he had it was only to give her bad news, like your son is missing and we have no idea where he is. Or 'I'm sorry Mrs Hanson but your little boy is on trial for murder and he's going to spend the rest of his life behind bars.' So how the hell was he going to tell her that he wanted her help to get her son sectioned because he had lost his mind and was now a danger to himself and everyone around him. He wasn't surprised to find that when she heard his voice Tom's mother flew into a panic.

"Mrs Hanson, it's Adam Fuller……No, no, nothing like that, he's all in once piece, but I really think we need to talk……Sure…..no we'll be there soon……..Please try not to worry."

Judy watched on, feeling sick and incredibly tired, finding it hard to believe that they were even considering this, but as she thought back over the past few months, especially the last few hours, she couldn't see any other way. She kept seeing Tom's lost empty eyes as he sat surrounded by smoke staring at the lifeless form of Casey Moore, the anger and hatred that had blazed behind them as he had held the gun to his head and the lifeless cold orbs that had stared out at her as he held that broken glass to her throat, and of course the awful sight of those jagged cuts on his arm and wrist. But despite all this she held on to the picture of the warmth in those same eyes as they had looked down on her the night before. When there had been nothing else in there but Tom.

"There's nothing else we can do is there?" she said sounding defeated as she looked up wide eyed at her commanding officer as he hung up the phone on a seriously worried and distress Margaret Hanson. He shook his head sadly and got to his feet.

"Come on, lets get this over with."


	22. Chapter 22

**Thanks all you guys xx. I always love reading your reviews. And thanks to my three new reviewers, always good to have newbies.**

**I got a but carried away with this one folks because I'm trying to tie things together as this story is now getting ridiculously long. Try not to fall asleep. Love and hugs to all xx**

Harry had given up on trying to get any kind of rest and instead had spent the night pacing backwards and forwards in the blank sterile hospital room as his injured friend lay sleeping restlessly. Doug had been drifting and out of consciousness for the last few hours, and each time he drifted into wakefulness for even a second, the only words that had left his lips were the names of his little boy and his partner. What the hell was he going to tell him?

His mind was a whirl of worry, fear and frustration as his thoughts switched from one partner to the other. He kept seeing Doug's desperation and panic as they had lifted him into the ambulance and the last words he had heard him say. "_He's not well Harry."_ Of course he hadn't needed Doug to tell him, he knew that much for himself, he had known ever since Hanson had drunkenly told him he was having a conversation with invisible dead people. And what had he done about it? Nothing. He had let him talk him into keeping his mouth shut. And now one of his friends was lying here injured and another one was crumbling, had been piece by piece right before their eyes and they had sat back and watched. Looking back it was so obvious, they way he planted those guns on that poor kid, then walking out on him and Doug leaving them to take the heat, the baffling obsessive scrawl he had found on that paper on Hanson's desk. He supposed, like Doug, he hadn't wanted to see it. He had wanted to go on believing that Tom was as invincible as he wanted them to think he was. Of course no one was invincible, he had seen that with his own eyes too many times, most recently of course when he saw them carry Casey Moore from the rubble of their temporary prison. He pushed that thought away as quickly as he could. Because any thought of Casey led right to Tom and he couldn't cope with seeing the image of his friends ghostly pale face and calm empty eyes, or how they had followed the dead boys every move. He would have to let Fuller worry about Hanson, he was here for Doug. Besides, it was Hanson who had made him promise to stay, so he supposed that being here for Doug was one small thing he could to for Tom. Still he wasn't looking forward to answering the questions Doug would most likely ask, about Hanson's or his own condition. In fact for one split second he found himself hoping that Doug would sleep for a very long time. Then as if he could hear exactly what he was thinking, the man on the bed began to stir, so Harry took a deep breath and made his way over.

"Doug? Can you hear me?" he asked gently as he looked down at his friend, still not quite able to believe that the large bear like Doug Penhall could look so fragile and vulnerable.

"Harry? That you?" came the groggy reply.

"Yeah, it's me. How you feeling?"

"Like a truck hit me." Penhall groaned as he struggled to focus on his friend.

"Well, you have pretty much been a gibbering wreck for most of the night. In fact I'd say you were the worst date I ever had. "Harry said with a smile.

"Hey at least I'm cheap." Penhall replied with a faint smile. "Where's Clavo?" he asked immediately for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Judy took him back to her place. She's probably been spoiling him rotten for hours."

"Lucky guy" Doug said with a tired smile before his brow furrowed in concern and worry. "Where's Tom?" he said suddenly snapping awake as the events of the past few days began to come back to him.

"Fuller's keeping an eye on him. He's in good hands."

"What are we going to do Harry?"

"About what?" Ioki replied lightly, thinking the last thing Doug needed right now was to worry about Hanson, especially as he could do nothing in his present condition.

"Don't insult me Harry, it's my legs that are hurt, not my head. I was the one in there with him you know" he said as he gazed intently into Harry's face. Harry hated to see him look so haggard and drained, god knows what the poor guy had been through over the past few hours.

"I don't know what we're going to do." Harry sighed.

"He's in a bad way isn't he?" Doug asked, hoping with all his heart that Harry would deny it.

"He's been better Doug."

"God, if he wasn't over the edge before, he is now. Why the hell did this have to happen?"

"I don't know" Harry said uselessly. "You knew he was sick?"

"Yeah, just not how sick." Doug replied, before remembering something his partner had told him. "Harry, did he tell you he was hearing things?" Harry nodded his head guiltily as he raked his fingers through his long black hair.

"He made me promise to keep quiet. Said he didn't want people to think he was crazy cos they'd lock him up again. I couldn't do that to him. I know I should've made him get help then, we wouldn't be here now. I should never have passed you guys this damn case."

"We've all made mistakes here Harry." Doug reassured him. "The important thing is now we do what's right."

"And what's that?" Harry asked, little knowing that any decision was been taken from them even as they spoke.

"Help him get well. Be there for him, whatever it takes. Not that I can do much from here." he said slamming his balled fists into the bed.

"Hey, you let us worry about Hanson for now. The best way you can help him is to mend and get out of here."

"Maybe. But worrying about him keeps my mind busy." he said gesturing towards the lumps beneath the standard issue hospital sheets. "Besides, I've been doing it for so long I can't help it Harry. You didn't see him in there."

"No I didn't. But I've seen him since Doug, and he's much calmer now." he said, neglecting to tell Doug that that calm was almost as eerie and worrying as any shouting and screaming.

"You're lying Harry, but thanks for trying to make me feel better."

"Doug, you know, the best thing for Tom might be a clean break. Get away from all this."

"Hanson not be a cop? Come on Harry, it's his life."

"You don't think this job has anything to do with what's hurting him?"

"There's a lot more than just his job that's hurting him."

"Yeah I know." Harry sighed, feeling the crushing weight of the road ahead resting on his shoulders. This wasn't going to be easy for any of them. "Anyway, I told you, I'll worry about Tom for now. You concentrate on getting outta here."

"What's the damage?" Doug asked, reluctantly allowing Harry to change the subject and doing his best not to look down at the lumps his legs formed under the white hospital sheet.

"I'll get the doctor to talk to you."

"I want you to talk to me." Doug said looking at him defiantly.

"You've been pretty lucky Doug." Harry sighed.

"Don't give me that Harry. I saw all the blood and felt the goddamn bullets. What's the damage?"

"Most of the bullets went right through, but the one that hit the artery shattered against the bone and some fragments were still left in there. That's why the wound became infected so quickly. They're giving you antibiotics to clear it and it seems to be working." Harry said uneasily. "Look Doug, you lost a lot of blood and the circulation to your leg was restricted for a long time. It could have been a lot worse if Tom hadn't been able to stem the blood. You could have lost your leg."

"What are you trying to tell me Harry?"

"There's been some damage to the muscle and they say you may not regain full use of your leg."

Doug stared at him blankly as if he had been speaking some old defunct language, searching his eyes questioningly before falling back on the pillows with a sigh.

"You mean I'm crippled?"

"No" Harry said firmly as he watched Doug pull himself up and begin running his hands up and down his motionless legs.

"Harry I can't feel them." he said in a choked whisper.

"It's ok Doug. It's just the painkillers. Believe me without the drugs you'd feel it. Trust me I should know." he said, the dark oriental eyes looking earnestly into Doug almond ones. "They say with physio you may not even need a Zimmer frame." he finished with a small smile.

"Shame. I always thought that would be a good look for me." he said trying to keep his voice steady.

"You might need to use a cane for a while, and you'll probably walk with a limp for the rest of your life"

"That's going to make my job a little tough isn't it?" Doug said choking back his fear.

"I don't know. It's still early Doug, give it some time. After physio, who knows, you may be almost as good as new."

"This damage? Is it because the circulation was restricted for so long?"

"Some of it, yeah."

"Don't tell Tom." he said looking pleadingly into Harry's eyes.

"Don't you think there's been too many secrets round here?"

"Harry, he's a wreck because he hurt complete strangers, how do you think he'd react if he thought for one second that he hurt his best friend?"

"It'd kill him."

"Well let me put it this way. The first time I saw him after we nearly ended up under a truck he'd slashed his wrist. You really think he'd be able to deal with this right now?"

"Probably not."

"He's just killed someone Harry. That's more than enough to deal with on top of everything else. Would you want to add to it?" Doug said, desperately trying to fight against the effects of the pain killers as his eyes became heavy and began to flutter.

"Not if you paid me." Harry replied.

"He can get past this. Can't he?" Penhall asked turning sleepy yet pleading eyes on his friend.

"I don't know Doug. It's not something we've ever had to deal with before. How do you get past killing someone?"

"I'll make sure he does." the injured man said decisively.

"Look Doug, when you see him don't push him."

"No offence Harry, but I know how to handle my best friend."

"I know. Just be careful."

"Harry, what aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know anything more than you do."

"Hey, after what I've just been through with him there's nothing that can shock me."

"Now's not the time Doug."

"We've gotta help him Iokage." Doug said sleepily.

"We will." Harry said comfortingly. "Whatever it takes." he finished as he watched his friend lose his battle to stay awake.

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"I don't understand." a confused and anxious Margaret Hanson exclaimed as they pulled up outside County Hospital. "You said Tommy wasn't badly hurt." she finished turning to look at the tall black captain in the driver seat.

"He was shot Mrs Hanson." he said gently then as he saw the panic on her face he said hurriedly, "But it wasn't as bad as it sounds. He's been discharged and physically he's gong to be ok once the wounds heal."

"Physically?" she said haltingly. "Are you going to tell me why we're here and what's wrong with my son?"

"We're here to see Tom's doctor." Fuller told her cautiously, exchanging nervous glances with Judy Hoffs as she sat uncomfortably in the back seat, the events of the past few days racing through her mind, and hating herself more and more as every second went by for what they were trying to do.

"Tommy's doctor? But this is a mental hospital." she said with a nervous laugh.

"That's right." came Judy's flat voice from behind them.

"What are you trying to tell me?" the older woman asked, her face suddenly losing it's colour as she glanced between her son's friends.

"I really think you should come and hear what the doctor has to say." Fuller replied calmly.

"No. I want to hear what you have to say." she said becoming extremely agitated. "And I want to know where my son is."

Fuller felt something inside him twist in knots as he saw the fear in her eyes. He wished this wasn't necessary, but they had no choice. This was the only way he could see of getting his young friend the help he needed.

"He'll probably be on his way to visit Doug."

"Will he be ok?" Margaret asked, trying not to picture the images Fuller and Judy's tale of the night before had conjured in her mind. She had grown fond of the loud, brash Doug Penhall over the years. The idea of anything happening to him hurt her almost as much as if it was Tom.

"He's still in hospital. Will be for a while yet, but he's going to be ok too." then placing a hand on her shoulder, "Look, once we're done here we'll take you to find Tom. But I really think you should talk with Dr Spencer."

"Fine!" she said defiantly, "But only so I hear him say how ridiculous this is."

"When was the last time you saw Tom?" Judy asked dully, causing Margaret to twist round in her chair sending the full force of her glare straight at the young black woman.

"A couple of weeks ago."

"And you didn't notice anything off?" she asked, her voice still flat and cold while the pain and heartache over her friend and would be lover bubbled constantly under the surface.

"He seemed a bit distracted, but he was fine."

"Talked to him recently?"

"What are you getting at Judy?"

"When was the last time you spoke to him?" Judy persisted.

"A few days ago. Why?"

"And he didn't say anything that made you a little worried?"

"No he didn't."

"Nothing about being poison? Hurting everything he touches? Nothing about what went on while he was in jail or how many people he thinks he sent to their deaths?"

"Judy, take it easy." Fuller said, but was ignored as Hoffs remained focused on Margaret.

"Well?" she pushed

"No." she said obviously confused and distressed. "Will you just tell me what's going on?"

"He didn't tell you that he'd tried to drive himself and under a truck then?"

"What?" Mrs Hanson yelled as her eyes filled her entire face, looking so much like Tom's as he had begged Judy for help the night before that she felt something inside ache.

"Judy!" Fuller warned, not liking how blunt and brutal Judy was being.

"She needs to know what we're dealing with, and we don't have a lot of time." she replied glaring at her captain. "Mrs Hanson, Tom tried to kill himself and nearly took his best friend with him." This was followed by stunned silence as Margaret stared dumbly back at her. "And a couple of days ago, he cut his wrist."

"Oh god." she choked, as she paled even more. "I'm afraid to ask, but why?"

"We don't know for sure." Fuller said softly. "It seems there's a lot more troubling Tom than we thought."

"Like what?"

"He's been through so much these past few years. His father, Amy, prison. It's a lot for one person to handle. Sometimes people just can't cope."

"Then we help him through it. He doesn't't need to come here."

"Yeah? Well the voices he's hearing say different." Judy yelled, frustration and worry fraying at her self control.

"He's hearing voices?"

"It seems that way." Fuller said gently, once again feeling every one of his 44 years and another 44 added on for good measure as he looked at the woman's pale, sick expression. "And I'm afraid what happened last night seems to have pushed him completely over."

"What do you mean? What exactly has he done?"

"He killed someone last night." Fuller said softly "While they were trapped inside this kid grabbed Doug, held a knife to his throat and threatened to kill him. Tom pleaded with him to let go, the kids step dad tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't. So Tom shot him, he died instantly."

Margaret stared at him in dumb silence, her eyes searching his face, silently pleading for him to take it back as she felt her head spin.

"What's going to happen to him?" she said in barely a whisper, as if all her breath had been snatched from her lungs.

"He won't face any charges, if that's what you mean." Fuller said kindly, all too aware of the burning fear and impatience coming from the young woman sat behind him.

"And you think whatever's wrong with him, that this has made it worse?" she asked weakly drawing a slow nod from Fuller.

"Tom's always been good at hiding things right? Well he can't hide it anymore. One minute he's this beaten broken kid, and the next he's like some angry hurricane. I'm scared he's going to either hurt himself or someone else."

"He wouldn't. I know my son and he would never hurt any of you, no matter what."

"Wouldn't he?" Judy said, her voice shaking underneath the cold calm façade, as she pulled the scarf from around her neck, revealing the shallow cut she had received from the glass before Hanson had realized what he was doing and pulled it away. "He held broken glass to my neck and nearly slit my throat. You still think you know him?"

"He'd never…"

"I know, that's the point. He has no idea what he's doing and he has no control over it." Judy almost sobbed as the pictures of the night before flickered before her eyes.

"Oh my god, what's happening to him?"

"Please just come inside. His doctor can explain much better than we can." Fuller said, hating the look of defeat on the worried woman's face as she nodded her head and wearily stepped out of the car.

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"Mrs Hanson?" Dr Spencer said as he stood up and offered his hand to her as she entered the office flanked by Fuller and Judy. She smiled briefly before sitting heavily in the chair by the desk.

"I know this must be a difficult time, but I really believe that this is the right thing to do. I have all the paperwork here ready."

"Paperwork?" she said looking at him through tired confused eyes, appearing as if she had aged 20 years in the last hour since Fuller and Hoffs had turned up on her doorstep.

"The paperwork consenting to us treating your son here." the doctor said looking slightly bemused.

"You mean here in this hospital? You want to me section him?" she yelled whirling from the doctor to the two police officers beside her.

"If that's the way you want to look at it." Dr Spencer said calmly. "You haven't told her?" he asked turning to Fuller.

"I thought it would be best if she heard it from you."

"You want me to sign my child away so you can lock him up and shove god only knows what drugs down his throat." Margaret yelled as the two men stared silently at each other.

"Mrs Hanson, that's not how these places work." Dr Spencer said, returning his focus on the anxious mother. "Yes we will have to ensure he continues to take the medication, without them he will be completely unmanageable. But I can assure you that will do nothing but try and help your son get well."

"Medication? Unmanageable?" she said gazing from one to the other of them, feeling like her head and her heart were in competition to see which would shatter first. "I can't take this in. This is all too much."

"I know this is hard..."

"Hard? You call me up out if the blue, drag me here and tell me my only child nearly died last night. Then you tell me he's tried to kill himself, that he's hearing voices." she choked back sobs, "That he shot a child dead. And now you want my blessing to lock him up?"

"They're not locking him up." Fuller said gently. "It's to keep him safe, to help..."

"Help him get better, I know." she said somewhere between wanting to shout and scream and wanting to cry till her heart broke. "You keep telling me that. You've told me a lot of facts and details, but there's one thing you're not telling me. Just how sick is he?"

"Have you not been listening?" Judy snapped.

"Judy shut up" Fuller snapped back. "That's not helping. Not us or Tom."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just wait here until she decides to let this all sink in while Tom's out there doing god only knows what to himself." she finished, her voice barely hiding the hurt and panic underneath.

"I won't lie to you, he's pretty sick." the doctor said turning back to Margaret Hanson.

"Does he know? I mean, these things he's doing, the voices he's hearing, does he know he's doing it?" the distraught mother asked.

"From talking with Tom, I think he remembers certain things after the event, but at the time, no. He doesn't have any control over what he's doing, you have to remember that." he said. Fuller gave Judy a small meaningful smile, but knowing that the man she loved didn't know that he nearly cut her throat or that he was tearing her heart out didn't make her feel any better.

"Mrs Hanson, has your son ever shown any sides of mental instability before?"

"No, never. He's always been the calm and rational one. Must have got that from his father." she said sadly.

"I want you to think very carefully. It's important if we're going to help Tom."

"She already told you, no." Fuller said firmly, hating to see the poor woman so distressed.

"When he was a kid, he used to cut himself." she said dully, staring at her hands as they rested in her lap, the resemblance to her son as he sat staring at the lifeless form of Casey Moore sending shivers down Judy's spine.

"He did?"

"Just after my husband was killed."

"How long did that go on for?"

"I'm not sure. I was in a bad way and he was very good at hiding it. He's always been good at hiding things." she said holding back sobs. "He'd been doing it a while before I knew what was happening."

"Did he ever receive counselling?"

"For a while. After a couple of months he said there was no point going anymore. That there was nothing more he could get out of it."

"And he was ok after he finished attending these sessions."

"He seemed to be." she said thoughtfully. "You were the one who saw Tommy after Amy died weren't you?" she asked.

"Yea ma'am."

"Then you know how good he's gotten at keeping things locked up inside don't you?"

"I have an idea." he said smiling softly.

"Then how do you know it's not worse than it seems."

"Excuse me?"

"You have to understand, when his dad died it hurt him badly. I think that was the only way he could let out everything that was building up inside him."

"Cutting himself?". Margaret nodded. "That's why most people self harm yes. It's also a form of inflicting punishment and expressing self loathing." then he said softly, "It can also be a way of asking for help."

"He's been doing it again hasn't he?"

"I'm afraid so."

"How bad was it?"

"Some of them were superficial but a couple were pretty deep." Fuller said feeling his own insides tearing. "I'm sorry."

"Can you help him?" Judy said turning wide pleading dark eyes on the middle aged doctor.

"I'll try, but that's up to Tom. We can force him in here and make him take the medication, but ultimately it's down to him, and from what you tell me of his state of mind I'm afraid there's no guarantees."

"Are you telling me he's crazy?"

"No. He isn't crazy." he smiled kindly. "He's having a breakdown. From what I hear from Tom and all of you it's most likely been on the cards for a while."

"But he's not much more than a kid."

"Age isn't really a factor in these things." he said kindly. "It can happen to anyone."

"Well it isn't happening to just anyone. It's happening to my boy." she snapped. "Is it something I did wrong? Did I protect him too much when he was a kid? Did I not look after him properly?"

"Mrs Hanson, I promise you it's nothing you did. Some people are more susceptible than others, no ones to blame."

"But you can make him better right?"

"We'll do what we can. Make no mistake Mrs Hanson, your son is very ill."

"What if I refuse to let you do this?"

"Then he'll get worse." Judy yelled. "He'll get more and more erratic until one day he'll end up in a straight jacket, drugged and locked up in padded cell. That's if he doesn't kill himself or someone else first."

"Is this true?" Mrs Hanson asked turning desperate pleading eyes on her son's shrink.

"It's extreme." Dr Spencer replied. "But it's not totally impossible."

"Not totally impossible? I had to talk him out of putting a bullet through his own head last night. That's how far this has gotten." Judy said doing a good job of sounding less hysterical than she felt.

"Oh god, Tommy." Mrs Hanson sobbed while Judy watched her, guilt and sickness tugging at her insides. She hated seeing what this was doing to the poor woman, but she couldn't let things carry on the way they were. Tom meant to much to her and she couldn't watch him go through anymore.

"Listen." Dr Spencer began gently, trying not to cause the poor woman anymore distress, "If you don't sign the papers then we can section him under the mental health act. He'll be assessed by a panel of doctors and they'll get a court order and he'll end up in an institution anyway, judged by complete strangers and told he's unfit to be allowed to walk free." he said hoping to play on her protective maternal instincts. "How do you think he'd cope with that? This way will be easer on you and on Tom."

"And if I sign these papers?"

"Then we make sure he goes someplace he'll be safe, where he can get the help and treatment he needs to get well again."

"You mean a mental hospital?"

"I really think it's for the best."

Fuller watched the mother of his young officer as she let this sink in and he was pretty sure that as he watched he saw some part of Margaret Hanson die.

"And all this other stuff?" she began haltingly, trying to work up the nerve to ask what was really ripping her in two. "Try to kill himself? Was he serious?"

"There's only one person that can tell you that Mrs Hanson."

"And I don't think he's going to want to answer you." Judy said as she put an apologetic and comforting hand on the older woman's arm.

"Tell me the truth Doctor Spencer. Is my Tommy in danger?" she asked as she placed her hand over Judy's.

"Yes I think so."

"Then I'll sign."

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Somehow Harry had managed to fall asleep, although how anyone could fall asleep in hospital chairs was a mystery. He must have been dreaming because when he heard someone calling his name he wasn't sure if it was real. But then nothing had seemed real lately. He slowly opened his eyes and found Tom Hanson standing over him, Clavo Penhall holding tightly to his hand. The little boy's bright eyes shot nervously around the room, continuously returning to rest on his uncle, still sleeping soundly on the bed.

"Hey" he said sleepily as he blinked into the light.

"You been here all night?" Tom asked, sounding slightly surprised. Harry's feelings towards hospitals were no secret.

"I promised I would didn't I?"

"Yeah, of course." he replied with a nervous laugh. "I forgot, sorry."

"Don't' worry about it."

"How's he doing?" Tom asked looking over at Penhall, as Clavo released Tom's hand from his grip and dashed over to Doug, scrambling up on the chair beside the bed to get a better look at his uncle.

"The doctors say he's going to be absolutely fine" Harry said uneasily as he noticed the fresh blood on the bandages encasing Hanson's injured hands. "The infections clearing and he's just sleeping off the anaesthetic. He lost a lot of blood, but nothing serious. They say he could have lost his leg if you hadn't have stemmed the bleeding. He's got to stay here for a few days though. Which means.." Harry said turning to Clavo, "that you get to spend a bit more time with Uncle Mick."

"I want to stay here." Clavo said looking back at Harry with huge puppy dog eyes.

"You can't buddy." Tom said walking over to the bed, kneeling down and putting a hand on the kids shoulder. "Hospitals are for sick people and you're not sick are you?"

"No. Are you going to stay here?"

_"See, even the kid knows you're a Looney toon."_

"Why?" Hanson asked, panic rising inside him.

"Your head" he replied pointing to Tom's bandage.

"No, I'm not. It's all better now, see." he said prodding the bandage and trying his best not to wince. "Don't worry. It's only for a few days until Doug's strong again ok."

"But Uncle Mick's smells funny."

"It's ok kid." Harry said grinning. "You'll be eating Doug's burnt hamburgers before you know it." This thought seemed to cheer the boy up and he turned back to his uncle, stroking the large mans scruffy hair..

"Do I have to go to school now?" he asked, his speech still coloured by his Spanish accent.

"Damn! What time is it?" Tom yelped as he groped for his watch. It was 8:45

"It's ok, I'll drop him off on the way into the chapel."

"Are you sure? You've been here all night."

"I spent most of it sleeping. I highly recommend the plastic beds and the food is excellent." Harry said raising a small smile from his friend. "Are you ok Hanson?"

"I've been better." Tom sighed thinking that if he was never asked that question again it would be too soon.

"It really wasn't your fault you know."

"So they keep telling me." he said distantly.

"It's not just that though is it?" Harry asked quietly as he noticed the far away look in Hanson's dark eyes. Tom simply shook his head. "Anything I can do?"

"No" Tom said kindly. "Not unless you can erase the last three years."

"I only wish I could. Do you know what you're going to do?"

"Not really." he replied with a sigh. "I know I can't go on this way. I need to make some changes or this is going to end me. I mean, look at me Harry. I've bust my ass everyday for years trying to protect people, risking my life and others. What do I have to show for it? I'm a head case with blood on my hands, a guilty conscience and a million memories I don't want."

"Yeah. I know the feeling" Harry said wistfully. Looking from Tom's troubled eyes to the little boy stood by him, and thinking about how empty his own life was, he envied the man sleeping soundly in the bed. He was actually one lucky guy. "Get out Tom. Whatever's tearing you up like this, just get away from it." he said suddenly turning to Hanson.

"I can't get away from it Harry. Anyway I can't leave while Doug's still in here. And then there's my mom…"

"Hanson, stop trying to wrap your arms round the whole world. They're not long enough you know. Look after yourself for once, get of here, get things straight and try and find some kind of life before things go to far."

"And where would I go? Where do crazy people usually go?"

"I dunno. I hear Florida has some excellent nuthouses." he said with a small grin, trying to lighten a situation that was fast becoming unbearable.

"Tell me something Harry. If it's so bad why don't you get out?"

"Because I'm not the one being eaten alive here."

"You know, you're a lot stronger than I am Harry." Tom said with a faint smile before turning back to Clavo. "Right buddy, you gonna let Harry take you to school?"

"I want to stay with Doug."

"I know. But he's asleep now kiddo and you want to have lots of things to tell him when he wakes up right?"

"Ok."

"And when he does wake up you're going to take real good care of him. Promise?"

"I promise." he said hopping down from the chair and scampering over to the two young officers.

"Good." he smiled. "Ok, give me cinco." Clavo grinned and gave Tom an exuberant high five before going to give Doug a kiss goodbye. Harry took hold of his hand and began to lead him from the room before having second thoughts and stopping dead in his tracks.

"I don't think I should leave you alone right now." Harry said nervously.

"I've got to be alone sometime Harry." he said softly, realising that Ioki was the only one who hadn't seen him totally lose it. He didn't know about his slashed wrist or the cuts that decorated half his arm, and yet he could still see as plain as day that there was something very wrong. "Anyway, if the lunatic tries something crazy he's in the right place."

"Hanson, stop." Ioki said softly.

"I'm sorry. I'll be fine, really."

_"LIAR!"_

"I wish I could believe that." he said smiling sadly before turning towards the door.

"Harry?" Tom called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Take care of yourself too man." The squirming in the pit of his stomach and something in Tom's expression made Harry feel that somehow he didn't think he'd be seeing Tom Hanson again.

"Always." he said. "And, Tom, really, it's ok to be a little selfish once in a while." Tom smiled slightly, if anyone would understand it would be Harry.

"Thanks man."

As Harry reached the door he suddenly spun round with a strange expression on his face. There were so many things he wanted to say but he didn't know how.

"Hanson..."

"I know." he said quietly. "Right back at you." And with a smile and a wave from Clavo they were gone leaving him alone with his sleeping partner and the silence that seemed so thick you could see it.

He walked over to the figure on the bed and looked down on his sleeping face, unable to believe that Doug could look so small. Unwillingly his eyes moved down to where the blanket covered Doug's legs and he suddenly felt sick.

"_Go on. Pull back the sheet and look at what you did to your best friend."_

"I didn't do that. I could never hurt him."

"_But you have. You're hurting them all with every breath you breathe, you know that."_

"Well, that's not going to last much longer."

"_And what are you going to do. End it? You've tried that. Something else you've failed at."_

"I wish I hadn't. It would all be so much easier."

_"That's right. Living the hard part right sport?"_

"You should know." he snapped bitterly as the voice of his long gone father once again filled his head.

He sat down on the chair Harry had just vacated and let his eyes wander around the room, staring at the sterile, blank, white walls, trying to push away the idea of what they reminded him of. He thought over everything that the doctor had said to him as the mans voice echoed in his head. "Massive nervous breakdown". It seemed so unbelievable. He was only just 25 years old. People don't have nervous breakdowns at 25. Breakdowns are for the weak who can't cope. The doctor of course had told him that this wasn't the case, and it was nothing to be ashamed of. If that was true why did he feel so ashamed? So weak and pathetic? Like he had let everyone down? Because that's how they've taught you to feel he thought bitterly. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to people like him. Others had been through so much worse. Doug had lost his entire family and his wife, he wasn't loosing his mind.

"_Maybe because he's not as weak and pathetic as you."_

"I'm not weak. I can fight this. I can't hurt them anymore." he said, almost convincing himself he believed it.

How were you supposed to deal with something like this anyway? If Doug was awake and well he would tell him he'd get through it, that he was a fighter. That was true he was, always had been, he'd had to be. Only now he'd been fighting for too long and he was so tired. How did you fight this anyway? You couldn't see it, you couldn't run from it because you carried it with you. He just couldn't see anyway past it. It didn't seem fair. But then it didn't seem fair that a kid with his whole life ahead of him was now lying stone cold in a morgue somewhere, maybe in this very hospital. Now there was one thing he definitely didn't need to be thinking about. He did though, couldn't help it no matter how hard he tried. The kids face kept floating before his eyes making him feel as if he was going to be sick. Then he thought that maybe it was because he hadn't had a drink since the night before. At that thought, right on cue Judy's face as he had held the glass to throat snapped into his mind, causing something inside to him ache. He found himself holding on to that pain, just to convince himself that he could still feel something, even if it was only the cold icy fingers of his memories squeezing the broken shards of his heart. Maybe he didn't really feel anything, because if he really loved her how could ever have some so close to hurting her.

_"How many people have to tell you Tommy. You're sick. Sick in your head. There's sickness in your blood and all the way to your soul."_

Rubbing at his temples and closing his eyes he began to think that maybe pouring that bottle down the drain hadn't been such a good idea after all, he could have used it about now.

He was lost so deep in his thoughts that he barely heard when Doug's voice came floating across the room.

"Hanson?"

"What is it?" he said as he jumped up and hurried as best he could to his partner's side. "You feeling ok?"

"Where's my boy?"

"Right here?" he said with a wry smile.

"I meant Clavo" he smiled sleepily back. "But it's good to see you too."

"Do you need anything?"

"No. Where is Clavo?" he said sitting up and shaking the sleep fuzz from his mind.

"He was here a while ago, Harry took him to school."

"Good. I don't think this is the best place for him."

"How you feeling?"

"I'll be fine. It'll take more than armed lunatics to stop me." he said with that smile still on his face. It quickly disappeared however as he saw Tom's face lose what little colour it had. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by that."

"I know."

"I don't think you're…"

"Stop Doug."

"Sorry. How are you doing Tom? Really?"

He'd been dreading that question. He knew there was no way he could possibly convince Doug that what he had seen was nothing to worry about, he just hoped he'd have a bit more time to work out just how he was going to explain all this. But how could he explain it to Doug when he didn't understand it himself?

"You're amazing" Tom said finally, smiling sadly. "How can you worry about me when you're lying there full of holes because I screwed up again?"

"You didn't screw up. Don't blame yourself over this, please. Anyway, I told you, you're my best friend, worrying about you comes with the territory. You'd be the same if it was you lying here."

"You really are a terrible judge of character Doug."

"I'm not that terrible a judge."

"Stop worrying, I'm not worth it."

"You are to me." he said seriously. "I don't ever want to hear you say anything like that again, you understand?"

"But it's true, Doug." he said his eyes darting around the room, still unable to look directly at the man lying a short distance away. "You remember saying that maybe my job wasn't the problem? You were right. I'm the problem Doug. Whatever is wrong is inside _me_. It always was."

Penhall studied his friend, despite the smaller man's apparent calm he could feel Tom's nervous energy as if it was filling the entire room. He felt like he was in the eye of some storm that could break any second and there was nothing he could do. All he wanted to do was protect his best friend, as he always had done, but he was stuck in a hospital bed, drugged and still in pain, both physical and emotional, and, after what he had just been through, he wasn't sure he had the strength to be Tom's protector anymore. Not that he thought any of this had been his fault, the poor guy couldn't help it, he knew that now.

"You're not a bad person, Tom." Doug said, finally bringing Hanson's eyes round to focus on him. Tom wanted to cling to those words, wrap his fingers round them and hold to them for dear life. But what the hell did Doug know. He hadn't seen the desperation in Kenny Wheckerly's eyes as he begged him for help. He hadn't seen the terror in Ronnie Seebock's eyes as they had placed the needles in his arms or felt the self pitying tears that had rolled down his face. Doug knew nothing, apart from who he thought his best friend used to be. But whoever that was had never set foot outside Fulsom Prison.

"If I'm such a wonderful person then why do I let these things happen?"

"Because shit happens Hanson and sometimes you can't stop it."

"I'm meant to be able to. You wouldn't be in here if it wasn't for me."

"Don't be ridiculous. You didn't make them shoot me."

"Maybe not. But our cover was blown because they recognized me. Because I screwed up and went out looking for revenge against Tower. Funny how one mistake and your life is pretty much over huh?"

"This isn't your fault." Doug said earnestly, whishing that he wasn't stuck lying there helpless, cursing his friend for only looking for his help when he can't give it. "Mathews would have recognized me from major crimes eventually, and we'd still be where we are now." he said, trying his best anyway. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Yeah I know. But mine ruin lives."

"Bullshit."

"Tell that to Shelly Mathews while she sits alone and watches her daughter die, while her husband rots in jail and her son rots in the ground."

"They got themselves into this Tom. It was their choice, not yours." he said earnestly, beginning to feel more helpless and useless by the second, as his anger at his best friends bad timing grew.

"It was my choice to kill him."

_"Just like it was your choice to do nothing and watch all those others die."_

"You had no choice, don't you get that?" Doug said, uneasily watching Tom's eyes dart restlessly round the room, remembering how he had told him it was easier to push the voices away if he had someone else to listen to. "From the second he had that knife to my throat, it was him or me. I don't know about you, but I thank god it was him."

"Then we're as bad as each other."

"Why? Would you rather it had been me?"

"No!" Tom yelled in disbelief, for one instant giving the Doug the impression that for that split second, his best friend was actually with him. "How could you think that?"

"Because I don't know what goes through your mind anymore."

"That makes two of us." Tom sighed. "What i wish is that it had of been me."

"Well i don't. Tom, your my best friend, you mean the world to me and you don't deserve to suffer anymore. You're worth a hundred of those kids you're punishing yourself over"

"No I'm not. I'm just like them. The only difference is that I have a badge which makes it ok to gun down scared kids. A little piece of metal that says you can take someone's life and no one can touch you for it." he said staring at his hands again. "Although I don't even have that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I threw it away, just like everything else that ever meant anything to me. It's back there burning in that building."

"Tom, I'm glad you shot Casey, because if you hadn't I wouldn't be here, you know that don't you?" he said forcing himself to meet Tom's gaze. "I'm scared I'm losing you." Doug said, making Tom remember Judy's voice saying those exact words what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I'll be alright."

"Tom, this is me. You expect me to believe everything's ok after what's happened? After everything you told me back there? Jesus, Hanson, you tried to kill yourself. And I can't believe that after all the guilt you've been feeling over those other kids you can just walk away from Casey saying everything's gonna be fine."

"I'm trying not to think about that Doug." he snapped.

"I'm sorry. But, please Tom, tell me the truth."

"You really wanna hear it?"

"Yes I do."

"_Are you really going to tell him? Do you really want your best friend to look at you the way the rest of them do?"_

"I've got Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome." he said, recalling what Fuller had suspected a few days ago, hoping it would be something Doug would believe.

"Hanson, the truth." he said sternly.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"You've done enough of that lately." he said showing the faintest signs of anger.

_"Why did you come here? Do you really think this is what he needs right now. He's in pain, suffering because of you and you're laying this on him? You really are a selfish poisonous little shit."_

"Tom?" Doug called, panic rising in his guts, fighting with the pain he was starting to feel in his legs, as he watched his friend frantically wringing his hands.

"What?" he asked distantly as he turned back to his injured partner.

"I might not be the worlds greatest psychologist but i know when someone's sick."

"You don't believe me?"

"I don't know what to believe." Doug said before focusing his sleepy eyes on his troubled friend. "All that you said back there? Was all _that_ true?"

"What did i say?"

"About what happened to you in prison?"

"Yeah." he said dully looking slightly ashamed. "Don't pity me Doug, I couldn't stand it."

"I don't pity you. I'm scared for you, Tom. I'm worried that keeping all this bottled up is ripping you to shreds. Do you have any idea how many times you almost got yourself killed?"

"I'm sorry i put you through that."

"Don't be sorry. Just tell me the truth. Do you really wanna die that badly?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Tom said, still unable to maintain any kind of eye contact, even with his best friend.

"Tom.."

"Yes, ok. Happy now?"

"Jesus Tom."

"Look it's over. I didn't do it ok. I couldn't."

"Good cos i don't wanna lose you man."

"Careful what you wish for Doug." Tom said flashing that familiar crooked smile, the pale imitation not drawing Penhall in for a second.

"And that's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is it?"

"It's the truth Doug. I've seen the shrink and everything." at least that much was true.

"I wanna believe you Tom. I want that more than anything, but I'm not an idiot. I was the one who bandaged your wrist remember, who saw you having conversations with thin air. I was the one who had to stop you from getting yourself blown to hell." he said pulling himself up from the pillows and eyeing his friend cautiously. "You told me you've been hearing voices, that you've been cutting yourself. I'm the one who is going to have to live with look on your face when you went back into that fire. Jesus Tom, you held a goddamn knife to my throat." he said, his voice raising a little too high.

"Doug, calm down." Hanson said dully

"Calm down?" he said in disbelief "I went through hell with you in there. There were times when I didn't even know who you were anymore. Don't tell me to calm down."

"What do you want to hear Doug?" he sighed realizing that even after all that had happened they still needed him to be the one to tell them everything was going get better. How could he do that when he didn't believe it himself.

"_Just lie. That what he wants. You're good at that."_

"You really want the truth Doug?" he said rubbing at his temples, ignoring the pain from the wound on his head.

Doug had been asking himself that very same question. There were so many things he wanted to ask his friend but he was scared of what the answer may be. He kept going back over the past couple of years, like a flashback in some bad movie. He kept seeing himself, Tom and Harry sat in the bar shortly after they had seen Quincy Thompson shot dead. Only now Harry's admission to being addicted to his pain medication wasn't what seemed to stick in his mind. What he kept coming back to was Hanson apologizing for what he was putting them through, then, saying he'll be right back, he had disappeared. He had no idea how long he had been gone, he had been too focused on Harry, but when he had returned he seemed different. Had he been cutting himself even then? Had there been signs that he'd just ignored? He felt he already knew the answer, but did he really want to hear it coming from his best friend?

"Yeah I do." he said, finally, distracted as he watched his friend.

"Would you even believe me if I told you?" he said distantly. Doug watched the way his features twisted, that, and his far away demeanour, reminding him of Tom pleading for him to keep talking, to keep 'them' away while he tried his best to fix Doug's leg. "Tom, are they back?" he asked bringing Tom's head snapping round to meet his gaze.

"How….."

"You told me." Doug said cutting him off, not sure how much more of his best friend's distress he could take, especially not in his current state. "You don't remember?"

"It doesn't matter. You'd have found out one way or the other."

"You can fight this you know." he said, raising a sad chuckle from his partner.

"Maybe I don't want to."

"You'd better." Doug said, a little more harshly than he meant to.

"Why?"

"You feel responsible for me being in here right?"

"Doug….."

"You think you owe me. Well I want my best friend back. That's the price of my forgiveness"

"I'm working on it ok."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm seeing the shrink." he snapped, noticing Doug's face contort with the effort of hiding his hurt, and was ashamed to find he didn't care. "Are you in pain?" he asked, surprised to find his voice sounded full of genuine concern.

"Nothing i can't deal with. Don't change the subject." Doug snapped. "So what happens now?" Doug asked, keeping his voice level, feeling exhausted in his mind, body and soul.

"I go for counselling, pour my guts out to a stranger for a few a hours a week and hey presto all better." he said, in a way that to Doug seemed much to cheerful and together to be coming from the guy he'd seen recently.

"And that's it?"

"Yep."

"There's nothing else?"

"No." Tom replied, totally unconvincing.

"And what about Judy?" Penhall asked, once again sending images of the previous night flashing before Hanson's eyes.

"Tom, what is it?" Doug asked in a panic as he saw the distress on his friends face.

"It's not your problem Doug."

"Come on man, we're partners, your problems are mine too ok."

Tom looked back at his partner and couldn't help feeling slightly guilty. He was always dumping his problems on Doug and it wasn't fair, look where it had got them. He had to start to dealing with things himself. Maybe that was the first step. But he had to tell Doug something or he would never let it drop.

"Doug, I've done something really stupid" he said looking devastated and was shocked to find that he really was.

"What did you do?" Doug asked, his stomach twisting in knots.

"Judy" he said nervously biting his lip, then turning red as he realised how inappropriate that sounded.

"Hallelujah!" Doug grinned, "I knew you had it in you." he said, the embarrassment on Tom's face giving the illusion that for a second everything was the way it had always been, and that in few days he would out of here and everything would be the way it was.

"It's not going to happen Doug." Tom said as if he had read his mind.

"What?! Why?" You're crazy about that girl." he replied, realising with some sadness what he had meant.

"I also might just be plain crazy. I can't ask her to take on my bullshit. Another time, another place, who knows? But she deserves better than me."

"Yeah, she does." Doug said looking at his friend in disbelief. "But she doesn't want better, she wants you."

"Yeah, well not anymore. I handled it really badly Doug. She hates me."

"She'd never hate you."

"You didn't see her face. Anyway it doesn't really matter anymore. It in the past."

"Don't be an idiot man, she could be just what you need right now."

"Maybe. But I'm definitely not what she needs."

"Hanson..."

"Leave it Doug." he said with that look Penhall knew meant it was pointless to try and push the subject any further.

"Ok." Doug sighed reluctantly. "So what happens now?"

"People keep asking me that." he said with a small bitter laugh. "I still have no idea. I keep thinking the best thing for everyone would be if I just got outta here."

"You can't leave." Doug said his voice rising in panic.

"What am I supposed to do Doug? Stay here and pretend everything's normal. Pick up all the pieces, smile and carry on the way I always have? I can't do that anymore. You said as much yourself."

"I know. But if you stay I can help you through this, just like I promised."

"Doug, I've put you through enough."

"Don't be stupid. We're a team. Always have been."

"We were." Hanson said smiling softly. "You've got Clavo now. You guys are the team."

"There's room for one more." Doug replied seriously.

"We'll see."

"I'm sorry Tom."

"What for?"

"That you've had to go through all this."

"You've nothing to be sorry for."

"I should have seen what was happening, We've all been worrying about Harry and I've been busy with Clavo…"

"Harry nearly died Doug." Tom said firmly, cutting him off, "And the kid comes first, that's how it should be. And it's about time I let him come first."

"What will you do?"

"No idea."

"I what am I supposed to do without you?"

"Doug, you were fine before you ever met me and you'd probably be better off without me."

"Bullshit."

"Hey, I haven't even thought about it. Relax."

"_I thought we'd agreed you weren't going to lie anymore."_

"Promise me you're not going to do anything without talking to me first ok." he said looking into Toms eyes.

"Sure" he said lightly. Then there was a knock on the door as one of the nurses peered round the door.

"I'm sorry to interrupt" she said "But I'm afraid you're going to have to leave. The doctors want Mr Penhall to have a few tests and I need to prep him before he goes."

"There's nothing wrong is there?" Tom asked panicked.

"No, it's just a precaution. He'll be up and about before you know it."

"Well, you heard the boss. I gotta go." Tom said as he got to his feet.

"You're not going anywhere." Doug said vehemently "I'm not done with you yet."

"Doug, I have to go now. The doctor wants you to go for test and I have to go see the shrink."

"You're gonna come back later though right?"

"I don't know."

"But you are coming back?"

"Of course" he replied as he walked over to the bed.

"Thanks for saving my life by the way." Doug said lightly, his old habit of believing every word that fell from Tom's lips still hanging strong despite all he had seen.

"No problem. I've kinda got used to having you around."

"I do tend to grow on people"

"Yeah, like moss." Tom said with his familiar deadpan expression, for a moment he almost felt normal.

"I love you too Thomas." Doug said forcing his face into a grin. He thought if he tried hard enough he could block out the nagging doubt in the back of his mind telling him that the familiar mocking tone and mischievous smirk were just pale imitations of the ones he had seen so many times before. That he could pretend that part of his best friend wasn't missing. His thoughts were broken and he was somewhat startled as his smaller friend pulled him into a hug.

"Get better ok." Tom said quietly. After a few moments Doug pulled away and looked at him with suspicion as he felt his insides twist.

"What are you up to Tom?"

"Nothing."

"You are coming back aren't you?"

"I told you I would."

"Then why did that feel like goodbye?"

"Because I'm getting kicked out." he said gesturing towards the nurse. "Get some rest, ok." he said heading towards the door. Doug noticed the nurse watching them uncomfortably.

"It's ok, we're partners." he smiled, then realising what he had just said his eyes widened. "I mean we're cops, not 'partners'." he finished bringing a warm smile to the faces of the nurse and his friend.

"It's ok," Tom said to the nurse in a stage whisper, "He's embarrassed by me." He grinned, the usual thousand watt smile reaching no more than 30. As he reached the door he turned and smiled at his best friend before closing it behind him.

Once on the other side he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door. He hoped Doug would understand. As he eyes opened he was met by the sight of Judy Hoffs walking down the corridor towards him. When he saw her all he wanted to do was tell her how sorry he was, to hold her close and bury his face in her mass of dark curls and have her make everything better. But something inside him wouldn't let him. He noticed her glancing nervously round the hallway and wondered what she was looking so worried for.

_"Do you really need me to answer that?"_

"Where's Clavo?" she asked as she got within speaking distance.

"Harry took him." he replied blankly, noticing some of the tension drain from her.

"How is he?" she asked gesturing towards Penhall's room.

"He's going to be fine." he said quietly, not meeting her eyes, unable to trust himself to keep his self destructive streak under control.

"What about you?" she said gently leading him away from the door to Doug's room, not wanting the injured man to hear what was going to happen.

"What about me?" Hanson asked distantly.

"Are you kidding? Tom, I've been worried sick about you for weeks"

"Please don't" he said feeling ashamed. He didn't want Judy's pity, he didn't deserve it.

"But I do. Every time I see you lately it's like you're a different person. Sometimes two different people." she said placing her hand on his cheek and forcing him to make eye contact. As he looked in her eyes a strange look flashed through her dark orbs. It was only for a second, but it was there and it made him nervous. What had she seen?

"Don't look at me like that." he snapped.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm some circus freak show."

"I'm not. Tom, please let me help you."

"You think you can fix me? Clever little Judy's going to put me back together by being nice."

"No. I care about you and I want to help you."

"Just because you fuck me doesn't mean you get to be my saviour." he spat. He didn't know why he was saying any of this. He was vaguely aware that what was coming out of his mouth was not what he had planned to say, but something inside him needed this girl to hate him. He deserved it.

"Are you still in there Hanson, or is this bitter twisted cretin all that's left?"

"You weren't complaining last night." he said with a smug grin. It was soon wiped off by the sharp slap Judy laid across his face.

"How dare you." she seethed. "Do you know you're the first guy I've been with since Evan Roberts?"

"Does that mean I get some kind of medal?"

"You know something Hanson? I'm scared to death that there isn't anyone that can put you back together. I'm scared that you're not just damaged goods, you're beyond repair." she said, hurt etched in every line on her face.

"Penny finally dropped has it Detective?"

"We have to get you some help Hanson, for all our sakes" she said as she turned to look nervously down the hallway, thinking how incredible it was that once she had gone to this man because he made her feel safe, and now she was scared to be alone in the same room as him. "Because I can't just stand here and watch someone I love falling apart."

"Oh I'm sorry. Is this uncomfortable for you? Let me tell you something Judy, it's not much fun for me either. You think I chose this? You think I ever planned for this to happen?"

"No one thinks that Hanson."

"Hanson? What happened to Tom?" he sneered.

"Good question." she said sadly

"Stop with the psychiatry shit Hoffs, I don't need it." he snapped angrily.

"Hanson!" barked a deep voice from behind, forcing him to whirl round to face it.

"Captain? What's going on?" he asked warily.

"Hanson, listen to me." Judy said desperately as she tried to draw his attention from the approaching figures. "Whatever happens, we're doing this cos we care about you. Promise me you'll remember that."

"What are you talking about?" Tom asked, his eyes briefly searching her face before darting back to his captain and the three other people walking with him towards them.

"What is she doing here?" he yelped in a panic as his eyes fell on his harassed, tired and worried looking mother. "She doesn't need to know any of this." he said coldly.

"Oh honey I'm so sorry." Mrs Hanson said as she slowly walked up to her son and put her arms round him, trying not to show her distress at how cold and unresponsive he seemed as he absently patted her shoulder. He was gazing from his friend to his captain, eyes blazing with anger.

"Who told her?"

"She had to know Tom." Fuller said calmly.

"How could you drag her into this? She's my mom."

"Exactly."

"I'm meant to be looking after her not causing her more hurt. I promised."

"You've looked after me long enough." Margaret said in a shaky voice. "I'm the parent, it's time I made sure you were looked after. I just don't I can be the one to do it"

"What do you mean?"

"Honey, I want you to go with these people ok. They'll look after you."

"Go where? Mom, who are they?" he asked, really noticing them for the first time.

"They're from Dr Spencer's hospital. They're going to take you there to see him, cos he's running late."

"My appointment isn't for another hour."

"That's ok. He won't mind seeing you early." she said, trying to sound cheerful, not being able to cope with telling him what was really going on.

"I'm not going anywhere." he said beginning to feel like a cornered animal as the two hospital orderlies edged slowly towards him.

"Tommy, darling I'm afraid you don't have a choice." Margaret said softly, unaware she was using the very same voice she had once used to sooth her tiny young son to sleep, as she fondly brushed his cheek with her hand. In fact as she did so it was as if she could still see that little boy whose eyes seemed too big for his face. "I've already signed the papers, baby, I'm sorry."

"What papers?"

"Tommy…." she began, trying to find the words, but how do you tell your only child that you're putting him in a mental hospital. Fuller, seeing her distress gently pushed past her and faced the confused and panicked young officer.

"Tom, your mother has given them permission to make sure you get the help you need."

"You mean…..?" he began, pulling away, his whole form shaking as he was hit by the realisation of their meaning.

"It's alright. They'll look after you." Margaret said weakly.

"You signed me away?" he asked, his voice full of hurt and fear.

"No, I would never do that. Listen, you've spent all these years taking care of me, but I'm the parent here. It's time I took care of you, so I am doing."

"NO!" he screamed, "You can't let them lock me away again. I can't go back there, I won't make it."

"No one's locking you up Tommy. I promise. They're going to help you get better."

"Judy!" he pleaded turning his pain filled eyes on the young woman, the desperation in his voice tearing her heart in pieces. "If they lock me away again I won't come back out. You know that don't you? You don't have to let them do this."

Choking back her tears and taking a deep breath she turned and looked into his eyes, horrified to find that finally there was no one but Tom in there looking back at her.

"Yes we do." she said sadly holding his stricken face in her hands. "You need to be somewhere you can get well again."

"I'm not sick." he said shakily. "I'm sorry, I know I screwed up….."

"No, you didn't screw up." she said, tears flowing freely now, "We were the ones who screwed up. We let you down. Now we're going to make sure you get through this."

"I can't….."

"Yes you can. And I'll be there when you come out the other side."

"What can I possibly have to fight for?"

"You've got me."

"I did have. But I wrecked that didn't I?"

"No you didn't."

"_You really believe that? Come on Tommy, you might be many things but you were never stupid. She'd say anything to get you to agree with their little scheme to make you disappear."_

"Judy, I could have killed you."

"Tom listen to me. When I was raped it was you that made me do the right thing and report it. Without you behind me I could never have gotten through it. I was so scared and the last thing I wanted to do was to relive the whole thing over again." she said choking back her sobs as his coffee black eyes gazed back at her, filled with fear and confusion. "But you took care of me and made me do it no matter how hard it was because you knew it was for the best, because you loved me."

"I wanted to help you." he said softly

"I know and I want to help you know. So I'm going to do the same for you, because I mean it when I say I love you." she said, aware of the startled reaction from her captain and her friend's mother but ignoring them as best she could. They weren't what was important right now. "I know you're scared, and I know it's going to be hard, but it's for the best. It's what you need."

"You're giving up on me?" he asked, his voice barley a whisper, but full of hurt none the less.

"No, I'm not. I could never do that." she said taking hold of his hands in both of hers, pressing them against her heart as his wide scared eyes searched her face. Whether it was the terrible situation they'd found themselves in, or the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that she might not see him again, she couldn't say, but at that moment she thought he had never looked so beautiful. She found herself wishing with every fibre of her being that he could see himself the way she did.

"Then why are you letting them do this to me?"

"Because it's time we let you down from pedestal and let you be human. You're ill Tom. You know that. And if this is the way to get you well again then so be it."

"Are you punishing me? Is this because I killed Casey?"

"No Tom it isn't. We're doing this because we care about you and we want you back with us."

"I really didn't mean to kill him. You know that don't you?"

"Of course we do."

"Then don't do this, please."

"_Why don't you stop your squirming and accept your punishment. You made sure I got mine."_ came the voice of Ronnie Seebock as the all too familiar fog seemed to fall on the world around him and Judy, choking back her tears, release her grip on him, her face beaten and drained..

"I know I did. How the hell could I forget when you made sure I never would? Why the hell did you want me there in the first place?" he said unaware of the concerned calls from those around him, not even his own mothers hysterical calls.

"_You know why? You needed to face up to who you are Officer Tommy"_

"And what's that?"

"_Cold, hollow, used up. You infect and drain everything around you. You're just like me. You killed someone too."_

"Not that time I didn't"

"_You were convicted though. It could so easily have been you lying on that table being pumped full of chemicals. The only reason it wasn't is because you were a cop."_

"Stop. I don't want to hear it."

"_No choice. They're here now Tommy, you can't run anymore."_

"SHUT UP!" he yelled, before being startled to find that he was been held fast by Adam Fuller, as his mother and Judy watched on in dumbstruck horror.

"Hanson, are you taking your meds?" the tall captain asked.

"I don't need drugs. I can handle this."

"You can't Tom. Not this time. Deep down you know that."

"You think I'm crazy too Coach?"

"When has anyone said that you are?"

"You don't need to say it. I can tell by the way you all look at me."

"Then can't you see that this has gone far enough?" Fuller said softly as he grabbed hold of Hanson shaking shoulders and forced himself to look directly into Hanson's distant hollow eyes, before those eyes looked back wide with fear.

"Look what's happening to you Tom, look what this is doing to your mother." he said looking over at the woman watching them with tears streaming down her face. "You asked me for help Hanson. Well this is it." he said, throwing an anxious glance at the two heartbroken women across from him, before loosening his grip on Hanson, but still keeping a firm hold on his unpredictable young friend. "You've always trusted me Tom, trust me this one last time and let us help get you better." he said looking into Tom's pale face, hoping to see some flicker of the spark he had always seen in this kid.

"I can't go away again Captain."

"You're not going away. Tom, I promise, no one is locking you up."

"It's what I deserve right?"

"No. But you can't go on like this. I'm scared that if you do we're going to lose you."

"If you don't want to loose me why are you doing this? You know I can't go back inside coach."

"You're not going to prison."

"Might as well be."

"Tom, the papers have been signed. You can either go by yourself or these two can drag you there." he said, hating the way he was trying to use his young friends fear against him.

"I don't have control over anything anymore do I?"

"Why do you think we're doing this Tom?" Fuller said trying to reach any small part of Hanson that might still be rational."

"I'm not going back."

"OK. That's your choice." Fuller sighed, feeling part of him break inside as he turned to the orderlies. "You can take him now."

As the two men advanced towards him, Tom felt sheer panic race through every fibre of his being. He didn't see the two large hospital orderlies, in fact he didn't see only two of anything. He was suddenly surrounded by a whole cell block of hardened criminals all advancing on him at once. He wasn't surprised to see that some of these carried the familiar faces of Ronnie Seebock, Kenny Wheckerly and Mattie, their accusing eyes glinting with delight at the fear and shame flowing thorough the young officer. Most horrible of them all was the vacant eyed, pale faced form of Casey Moore, blood flowing from his mouth and the gaping bullet hole in his chest.

_"Come with us Tommy. It'll be so much easier. There's no pain, no expectations, no guilt. There's nothing but peace."_

"That bullshit." he yelled as he covered his ears, screwed up his eyes and crouched down as small as he could in the corner of the hallway as the two men, seemingly unconcerned continued to advance on him, obviously having seen too much of this kind of thing over the years.

"If you were at peace you wouldn't be here."

_"It's you that won't let us rest. It's you that insists we haunt you every breath you take."_

"NO IT ISN'T" he screamed startling his three companions and drawing an awful wail from his mother as she turned her face into Judy's shoulder. "I DON'T WANT THIS."

_"Come on sport, then we can all rest." _Tom heard the voice of his long dead father calling out softly. He looked up saw the man smiling down on him. "_You're tired aren't you Tommy? You want to leave all this behind don't you."_ Tom just nodded and continued rocking backwards and forwards in his corner. _"You want it to be over."_

"Yeah, I do. But you're not really here are you?" he said laughing sadly. "You're only here because I'm losing my mind."

_"I'm here because you brought me here."_

"Then I can get rid of you." he said suddenly springing to his feet and rounding on the figure he thought was his father and screaming at the top of his voice, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME."

Despite the years of experience, the two men flinched at the anger coming from the young man before them and turned to the tall black man and the two women stood beside him.

"What's happening?" Mrs Hanson almost screamed as she watched her son, his unseeing eyes wide and frightened and his entire fragile frame shaking uncontrollably.

"I don't know" Fuller said blankly as he made his way over to the frantic young man, leaving Margaret and Judy stood in stunned silence. He walked past the two men in their white coats and cautiously placed his hand on Hanson's arm.

"Tom?" he said softly, relieved when the younger mans eyes turned to him.

"Captain? Why is this happening to me?" he asked, his voice small and wavering.

"I don't know Tommy." he said softly.

"I'm so scared."

"It's ok to be scared." he told him as he pulled the fragile shaking young man into his arms the way he should have done the night before, comforting him the way he had needed his father to all these years. "We're going to make sure you get well again I promise." he said, as he nodded to the two white coated men, holding Tom as tightly as he could so that when one of the men sunk the needle containing the sedative into his arm he felt only the tiniest scratch. As he felt Tom begin to sag in his arms he loosened his grip and looked down at him, his dark eyes looking back full of questions and confusion as he slipped into unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry Tom." Fuller said as he watched those dark, distressed eyes flutter closed. He lowered him gently to the floor and stood back beside Margaret and Judy and watched as the two men accepted a stretcher from a helpful hospital porter and proceeded to secure the fragile limp form for the journey to County Mental Hospital.

He heard Hanson's mother let out a stifled sob as the two men began to take her only child away. She moved towards him, almost breaking down as she stroked the dark mess of shoulder length hair from his face.

"I'm so sorry baby." she sobbed before she turned away and allowed his escorts to lead him away. She allowed Fuller to hold her, to try and comfort her, which was all he could do as he had no idea what to say. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if it had been his own son. Actually he thought he would probably feel exactly the same way.

"We did the right thing." he said, looking over at Hoffs, her face streaked with tears.

"Did we?" she said weakly, feeling as if someone had pulled her heart out from her chest and stamped right on it. "I'm not so sure."


	23. Chapter 23

**Hi again folks. Once again, I'm sorry for leaving it so long, but I had no idea how to finish it cos I kinda wanted to leave it open for a follow up.**

**Dragon77 - my pleasure, glad you're enjoying it.**

**LilaG - thanks for your kind words. As for the issue with Hanson's long hair, it's been that way from the begining of the story, kind of another way of showing how he's given up caring and looking after himself. Sorry if it wasn't clear. Really glad you like my little tale.**

**Debbiets - sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry again. I'll try not to next time ;0). Maybe I should send you free issues. Thanks for your reviews throughout this story, they've been lovely to read xx.**

**Andaere - nope, sorry don't do happy endings ;0) maybe next time. Thanks for sticking with me through this, you've been great xx**

**Ghostwriter and LibraryTech, as always, love, hugs and thanks xx**

Dr Spencer walked down the long white hallway, his steps slowing as he drew nearer to the small group huddled near the admissions desk. He let out a tired sigh before moving towards them. He had always thought that dealing with the family and friends of his patients was more difficult than dealing with the patients themselves. He'd take a delusional paranoid schizophrenic over a strung out worried parent any day.

"How is he?" the tall black man asked, moving quickly towards him as soon as he saw the scrawny middle aged doctor heading their way, the two women following close behind.

"He's resting." he answered calmly. "He was quite distressed when he came round, but we've started him on the meds and he's much calmer now."

"Has he said anything? Can we see him?" Margaret Hanson asked desperately, her words coming out in a rush of anxiety.

"That's up to Tom." he replied shifting uncomfortably. "But don't be surprised if he doesn't want to see you."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Maybe because we stuck him in the last place in the world he wanted to be." Judy said, the sickness in her guts getting worse by the second.

"He's very confused right now" Spencer said kindly, trying his best to give them some kind of comfort. "And he's most likely feeling very angry and betrayed. But it will pass. Eventually he's going to need every one of you."

"I need to see my son, please."

"I can't make any guarantees."

"Can you please just tell him we're here and we just want to see him to make sure he's ok?" Fuller said putting a comforting hand on Mrs Hanson's shoulder.

"I'll do my best, but I can't force him to see you if he doesn't want to." he said firmly before turning and heading the short distance along the hallway.

"He's never going to forgive for this is he?" Judy asked, pain and desperation in her large dark eyes as she look helplessly at her commanding officer.

"Let's wait and see shall we?" Fuller replied trying to sound more confident than he felt.

--

He knocked on the door and waited for an answer. He didn't expect one, didn't even need one, he could go in whenever he wanted. It was just part of what he had come to see as the illusion that this place seemed to want to give that the patients had some kind of control. He waited for a few moments before peeping his head round the door. The figure on the bed was still lying in the same position as when he had last been in here. His freshly bandaged hands folded across his chest and dark eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling from under the mess of dark hair and the bright white dressing over his brow. He had seen a lot of hopelessness and defeat over the years, in this job it came with the territory, and as he looked at the man lying on the other side of the room he couldn't help but feel that this kid had already given up.

"Tom?" he said, getting no reaction he stepped further into the room. "Your mother and your friends are outside wanting to see you. Do you want me to show them in?" The figure on the bed shifted and rolled over on his side to face the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest as his long dark hair covered his face.

"No." came the almost inaudible reply.

"Are you sure?" This was answered by an almost imperceptible nod of the young mans head. "Do you want me to tell them anything?"

"Tell them to go."

"Ok. If that's what you want, that's your decision."

"I still get to make decisions then?" he said, the idea of this drawing hysterical laughter from the broken kid on the bed. No matter how many times he saw this kind of thing, Spencer was always surprised at how cruel mental illness was, and he had always hated seeing what it reduced people to. Not only the ones suffering from it but all those who cared about them too. The small crowd waiting outside was evidence of that.

"Of course you get to make decisions." he replied matter of factly.

"So why am I still here?" the younger man replied, his laughter halting as suddenly as it had begun.

"I think you know that Tom."

"You said I didn't have to come here." he said turning to face the older man.

"I know."

"You said I wasn't a danger to anyone."

"That was before you tried to shoot yourself and kill your friend."

"I wouldn't hurt Judy. Not for anything in the world."

"But you did."

"I know." he whispered.

"So why don't you think about that and then tell me why you think you're still here."

"Is this an official session Doc?"

"No"

"Then I don't have to tell you shit." he said sulkily burying his head in the pillow, feeling more alone and lost then he ever had in his whole life because, as the force had done to both him and his father, his friends had taken all he had to give and then thrown him away. He wondered if this was how Kenny Wheckerly felt when his family had done this to him. He half expected his burnt out, confused mind to offer some snide helpful answer but there was only silence. The pills they had forced down him had taken the voices away. But he didn't need them to answer him, he knew the answer already. After all he had seen the desperation in the kid's eyes when he had asked him for help. Then right on cue the boys face floated in front of his eyes and he suddenly found himself wishing more that ever that he was dead. In fact he didn't even want to go through the hassle of dying, he just wanted never to have existed. But then again this was what he had wanted. He was finally being punished.

"Ok. As I said, that's up to you. But what about those people outside waiting to see you?" the older man said cutting through his thoughts.

"They've taken enough from me. I don't owe them anything else."

"Is that what you want me to tell them?"

"Just find out how my partner's doing and tell them to go please." he whispered as the walls built back up and he turned away.

"Sure." Just as Dr Spencer was about to leave the room he heard that same soft voice call him back.

"What is it?"

"If I still get to make decisions then I think we need to talk. There's a few things I need for you to do for me."

"Ok then. Talk away."

--

As soon as he turned the corner, Spencer could see the eyes of the three people waiting for him focused solely on him, as if by sheer force of will they could make him tell them what they wanted to hear.

"Well?" the pretty young black woman asked as she placed her hand on the shoulder of the older woman stood beside her.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid he doesn't want to see anyone. He'd like you to go."

"He doesn't want to see us?" Margaret asked, her face full of hurt and confusion.

"It's not really surprising in these circumstances" the doctor replied kindly.

"That's it? He just wants us to go?" Judy asked. The doctor nodded. "He hates us, doesn't he?"

"That's enough Judy." Fuller said, trying to keep his voice under control. "You heard what Dr Spencer said. Tom's just a little confused right now." he finished, chancing an anxious glance towards Mrs Hanson.

"Was there anything else?" Judy asked, pleading eyes focused on the doctor.

"I'm sorry, no." he replied. "Actually, he asked me to find out how his partner was."

"Tell him not to worry. Doug's going to be fine." Fuller said calmly.

"I'll do that. Look, these things take time. Be patient, eventually Tom will want to see you, and he'll need your support."

"He'll have it." Judy told him decisively.

"I'm sorry I can't give you better news."

"Just take care of him." Margaret pleaded, once again looking broken and defeated.

"He's in good hands, I promise."

"Thank you doctor." Fuller said. Dr Spencer offered them all a sympathetic smile before taking his leave as quickly as possible.

"He's asking after Doug. That's good right?" Mrs Hanson asked.

"Of course it is." Judy replied trying to sound reassuring.

"Excuse me?" came a kind female voice from behind them. The girl from the admissions desk was stood there holding a clear plastic bag in her hands, containing a number of familiar objects. "Mrs Hanson? These are your son's things. I'm afraid he can't keep them in here." she finished apologetically as Margaret took the bag and began to examine the objects inside. She pulled out the keys to the old Mustang that once belonged to her husband and looked at the nurse with a mixture of horror and anger.

"What's he going to do? Slash his wrist with his keys?" she asked angrily. The nurse, being used to seeing distraught relatives, just offered a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry." she said before going back to whatever she had been doing before. Judy watched her with envy, wishing she could move on form all this so easily. There would be no carrying on as normal for them.

"His car!" Margaret yelped, pulling Judy back from her thoughts. "It's still at the hospital. We can't just leave it there. He loves that car."

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it." Fuller told her.

"Thank you."

"Come on." Fuller said putting a supporting arm around the distraught woman. "Standing around here isn't going to change his mind. I should check in on Doug and Ioki." he finished looking over at Judy.

"Oh god." Hoffs let out a heartbroken sigh. "Doug and Harry. How are we going to tell them?"

--

Shortly after leaving the hospital Fullers car pulled up outside the little house the Margaret Hanson called home. It struck him immediately how normal, uneventful and safe the neighbourhood appeared and found himself thinking, just as his mother had not so long ago, that Hanson's idyllic upbringing had left him totally unprepared for what life had planned to throw at him. And it was with the feeling that the world was trying to crush him that he reluctantly stepped out of the car and offered his hand to help Margaret form the back of the car. She offered him a weak smile as she took it and stepped onto the driveway.

"Are you going to be ok?" Fuller asked Margaret as he and Hoffs walked her through the door of her empty house, reluctant to leave her now that they had finally got here.

"I'll have to be won't I." she replied, some pale imitation of her usual no nonsense tone in her voice as she smiled thinly at the two officers.

"You know if there's anything you need…." Fuller began.

"All I need is my son healthy and back with us."

"Still, if you think of anything at all you know where to find us."

"I know. And if Tommy changes his mind…."

"We'll be in touch."

"Thank you."

"Take care of yourself Mrs Hanson." Fuller said with a small smile.

"I'll do my best." she replied. "And Judy?"

"Yes?"

"You really care about Tommy, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"I know, the way you were with him today, anyone could see that. It would be good to know that you'll be there to help him trough this."

"If he let's me I'll be there every step of the way."

"That means a lot. Thank you." she said hugging the young woman tightly before seeing them out the door.

After she had watched Fuller and Hoffs climb into Fullers car Margaret walked slowly and wearily up the stairs to the second floor of the small house where she had spent so many years looking after her family and made her way to the room her son had called home all those years. She had hardly set foot in this room during the time since Tom had left home and she was suddenly struck by how strange and lifeless it seemed, and although it had been so long since he had last slept under that roof, as she thought about him shut up in that huge, sterile building, the place had never felt more empty. Letting out a shaky breath she sat down heavily on her only child's bed and buried her face in her hands as silent heartbroken tears streamed down her tired looking face.

--

"How you doing Jude?" Fuller asked the young woman as they stepped out of the captains car onto the chapels make shift parking lot..

"Better than most." she said with a wan and unconvincing smile.

"Judy..."

"It's been a rough few days captain. I'm tired. Tired in my mind, my heart..." she began before taking a deep breath and putting on her best brave little solder face. "But things will get better now right?"

"I hope so. I know today must have been hard for you."

"No harder than it was for anyone else."

"Come on Hoffs." Fuller said, his tone knowing and compassionate.

"What?"

"Why didn't you tell me about you and Tom?"

"Because it's between me and Tom." she said, the finality in her voice unmistakable.

"I had always hoped you guys could tell me anything."

"I couldn't tell you what I didn't know myself." she said, trying to keep her emotions under control under the concerned gaze of her commanding officer. "Tom's not really been clear on what he wants lately, you know." she finished with a sickly smile.

"Listen," Fuller began putting a comforting hand on Judy's shoulder, "Once he's better and all this is in the past he'll be lucky to have you."

"Thanks captain, but I don't see that happening do you?"

"Why not?"

"After what we've done to him? You really think he's ever going to forgive us for that?"

"Once he realises it's for his own good, he'll come round."

"I wish I was that sure." she said sadly. "But I'm a little too old for fairy tale endings. I'm not some innocent little princess and Tom's no knight in shining armour."

"Happy endings do sometimes happen you know."

"Not to people like us though huh?"

"You know I keep forgetting you guys aren't as young as you look." Fuller said with a sad smile.

"Isn't that kinda the point? I might be young, but I'm not naive." she replied. "I keep thinking I've betrayed him in the worst way possible. We all knew how scared he was of this happening."

"There was no other way Judy. We went through all this."

"He just looked so scared."

"How scared?" Fuller asked bluntly. "As scared as you were when he was holding broken glass to your throat? As scared as Doug was when he was staring into the headlights of that truck, or when Tom was threatening to stick a knife in him. How about how terrified Doug was when he found his best friend had slashed his wrist."

"Stop, please."

"Anytime you think we made a mistake you just remember how you felt when he had that glass sticking in you."

"I know we did all we could. But what if he's right? What if he doesn't make it through this? What if that place really does finish him off?" she sobbed. "God, Captain, what if he has to spend the rest of his life in that place. You hear about it all time. People going into institutions and never coming out."

"That's not going to happen to Tom."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because he's strong Judy, he's a fighter."

"No he isn't. He was once, but not anymore."

"And he will be again. The alternative doesn't bare thinking about."

"He said we did this to him you know. Maybe he's right."

"What do you mean?"

"We've always put so much responsibility on him. Forcing him to be the strong one, the one that has to be perfect in everything he does."

"You know that's not true."

"Isn't it? Think about it. When Tower was killed we all thought Hanson did it. There was only Doug willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, even though we all knew deep down that everything we knew about Tom told us there was no way he could do something like that."

"I seem to remember you saying pretty much those exact words at the time." he said kindly.

"I didn't take much convincing though did I?"

"Judy, please..."

"No. We've always been willing to believe the worst about him. Every time. Doug and Harry thought he set them up that time those kids were breaking into people's houses. They thought he planned to run their car off the road, planned to get them arrested. Jesus, they even thought he saw it as funny that he almost got cut to pieces by a roller coaster. We all know that wasn't Tom."

"I keep telling you Hoffs, none of this has been Tom. That's the point. That's why we've had to do this." he said firmly. "Are you telling me we've done the wrong thing?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I just want to put my arms around him and hold him so tightly that nothing can ever get close enough to hurt him again." she said, feeling surprised that she was able to talk to her Captain this way. "But I'm not ever going to be able to do that am I?"

"What's stopping you?"

"Tom's stopping me." she replied, her voice beginning to waver. "Captain, I'm scared he's always going to hate us for this, and I don't think I could bare that." she sobbed. "I still love him, even after everything. I just can't help the feeling that maybe I'm in love with a distant memory."

"Listen to me Judy." Fuller told her calmly as he gripped her arms and stared intently into her face. "He will get through this. The Tom Hanson we all know and love, that drives us all crazy, will come back to us. I promise."

"I hope so. Because I miss him so much."

--

Doug Penhall sat in the small bare white room, trying to rest while his mind raced as he thought over the past few days, going over everything he could possibly have done to keep things from going so far. But what if's are pretty hopeless when everything's already over and done. Don't distress yourself, the doctors had told him. Well that was easy from them to say. They hadn't been through what he had. They hadn't almost been cut in half. They hadn't almost bled to death while watching one of the people they loved most in this world unravelling before their very eyes, helpless to do anything to stop it. The doctors had more to do than just lie here and think over everything that had led up to him ending up here with the memory of his friends erratic behaviour and terrible admissions. And now to cap it all off he'd maybe never regain full use of his leg. As he looked out the window he saw a small bird hop up on the wall outside before spreading it's wings and taking off into the air. His eyes followed it as it made it's way into the clouds, wishing he could follow it and leave it all behind.

Doug tore his eyes away from the window with a hopeful look on his face as the door to his room slowly opened and the tired and anxious face of Judy Hoffs peered round the door. He tried his best to hide his disappointment as he offered her the brightest smile he could dig out.

"You feel up to a few visitors?" she asked returning his smile with a small exhausted one of her own. To Doug she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, in fact, she looked almost as bad as he felt.

"I'm always up for you beautiful." he said flashing a sly grin and raising a genuine smile from the young woman. "Actually you look a little tired Judy, maybe you should join me in here. Plenty of room you know."

"I'm sure there is." she said lightly, "But we're under strict instructions not to tire you out."

"The doctors also said light exercise to begin with Doug." Harry said from behind her as he and Fuller entered the room. As they stood watching him they could see his eyes hopefully searching the doorway behind them, each of them knowing who he was looking for and each of them feeling that little bit sicker with every second because they knew he wouldn't see who he was looking for walk through the door.

"So how you feeling Doug?" Fuller asked trying to take the young mans attention from the empty doorway.

"Never better. I think I might go dancing later. Who's in?" he asked his eyes darting from one to the other as Harry sulkily went to the window and seemed to become interested in the leaves blowing outside.

At first Doug put this down to Harry's love of hospitals. The Vietnamese officers feelings towards hospitals were no secret, he would rather have everyone of his teeth pulled than spend more than one second in one of these places. But he quickly began to get the feeling there was something they were trying to hide. The truth was a couple of hours earlier Harry had found out exactly where his other partner had disappeared to, and his reaction had been just what they had expected. he hadn't really spoken to them or looked at them since.

"Maybe next time." Fuller smiled, trying to ease some of the tension in the room. The smile quickly faded however when he met Doug's eyes and saw the unasked questions swimming in those darks orbs.

"I thought you guys would have been here sooner. I've been bored out of my mind sat here by myself."

"Yeah, well, they've been very busy people Doug." Harry said, his voice bitter. "Lots of things to do and problems to get out the way."

"Where's Tom?" Doug asked, eying Harry nervously as he gave voice to the question they were all dreading him asking.

"He's gone away for awhile." Fuller replied calmly

"Without saying goodbye?"

"Well, it was kind of a last minute thing." Judy told him, her eyes darting around the room and looking anywhere but at Doug.

"Yeah, and he didn't have much choice in the matter." Harry spat.

"When's he going to be back?"

"Your guess is as good as mine Doug."

"Harry" Fuller said firmly. "Can I see you outside for a minute?"

"But Captain..."

"That wasn't a request Harry."

"Sure, whatever." Harry replied sheepishly as he skulked after his commanding officer.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" Fuller seethed as he shut the door behind him, trying to keep his voice low for the benefit of this injured man on the other side.

"What do you mean?" Ioki replied, feigning innocence. "He wants to know where Hanson is and I think he has every right to know."

"Maybe, but do you really think now is the right time? He's in a lot of pain Harry, I think he should deal with that first don't you."

"He's just going to keep asking."

"Then you'll just have to keep not telling him. Think about it Harry. What would Doug do if you told him?"

"Probably race right out of here and drag Tom out of that place as fast as he could." Harry said with a sad smile.

"Exactly. And that is the last thing either of them need. Doug is in no fit state to deal with this. Once he's well enough to leave, then we'll tell him."

"And in the meantime we just keep lying to him right? Go on pretending nothings happening? It's done us a lot of good so far hasn't it!" Harry scoffed. "You know Tom told me he was going crazy, that he was hearing things and I did just that. Pretended nothing was happening, let him talk me into pretending I hadn't heard a thing. Well now a kid is dead, Doug's lying full of holes and painkillers and Hanson's falling apart faster than anyone can collect the pieces." he continued looking calmly and coldly up at his captain. "I could have stopped it right then if i had just said a few words, but i didn't. There's been too many secrets and lies around here, so you can go back in there and smile while you lie right to Doug's face, but I'm not going to do it anymore, I'm sorry." he said before turning his back on his captain.

"Where are you going?" Fuller called after him

"Does it matter?"

"Actually it does. What do I tell Doug?"

"Tell him whatever you want. You're gonna do that anyway." he called back leaving his commanding officer staring frustrated at his retreating back.

--

"What's with Iok?" Doug asked suspiciously.

"Nothing." Judy replied her eyes nervously shifting towards the window.

"Nothing?" Doug repeated, one eyebrow raised.

"You're not the only one who's been having fun you know. He's just letting off steam."

"You sure?" he asked sceptically

"Positive." Judy replied, her nerves making her sound more cheerful than she had intended.

"Is there something going on I should know about?"

"No. Not a thing."

"Judy, where exactly is Tom?" he asked, a slight panicky edge to his voice as he hoisted himself into a sitting position.

"Like Fuller said, he's taking time out. The doctor said absolutely no stress."

"Hey, I know Tom. Nothing would keep him away. You know that too."

"Look, he didn't just scare us you know. He's scared himself half to death, ok, so he's following every order the docs give him." she said sounding so convincing she almost believed it herself.

"If there was something wrong you'd tell me right?"

"You know there's something wrong, Doug. But he's trying to fix it. Don't worry. He'll come see you when he can."

"I need to see him Judy. After seeing the mess he's let himself become, and everything we went through in there I need to know he's safe."

"He is safe Doug, I promise."

"He's going to carry on seeing the shrink right?"

"For as long as it takes, we'll make sure of it." Judy replied looking over her shoulder as she heard footsteps behind her, to see Adam Fuller walking wearily back onto the room.

"God I wish I wasn't stuck in here." Doug said through clenched teeth as he let his head fall back on his pillow.

"So do we." Fuller said.

"Where'd Harry go?" Doug asked looking behind his captain.

"You know Harry and hospitals don't mix. He sends his best and says he'll see you later." Fuller told him, realising that Tom and Harry may just have a point. Lies did come too naturally these days. But the lies were for his own good, let him deal with things one at a time.

"Why do I get the feeling you guys are hiding something?"

"There's nothing to hide." Fuller shrugged, doing a better job of hiding his distress than the young woman stood beside him.

"Judy?" Doug asked looking at her as if he could see right through to the other side.

"I've told you not to worry." she replied. "Things will be better now, I promise."

"When do you start physio?" Fuller asked trying to change the subject.

"Couple of weeks." Doug sighed looking weary and drained.

"Hey, don't sweat it, you'll be out of here before you know it." Fuller said brightly.

"I hope so. I just wanna see my kid."

"I'll bring him by after school. How's that?" Judy asked, glad for even the smallest thing she could do.

"You're an angel Jude. Did I ever tell you that?" Doug said with a faint smile, not noticing the sick expression on her face. She certainly didn't feel like an angel, not after she had betrayed the man she was meant to be in love with.

"No I'm not." she told him, "Just your friend." she finished as she placed her hand on his.

"Thanks" he said with a smile, "Both of you." he told them, not knowing how much they wished he hadn't.

--

Three Weeks later.

After weeks of lying in that cold sterile white room, having all his questions about his best friend dodged and waved away Doug Penhall, much to his doctors annoyance, discharged himself from the hospital. He had been told over and over that he wasn't ready to leave yet, but they had no idea how ready he was. If he had to spend one more second stuck in that room watching his friends nervous and closed off reactions to all his questions and thinking over everything that had happened he was likely to loose his mind too. The more he thought about it the more sure he was that his friends and captain were hiding something.

Being barely able to walk didn't make the trek up the steep chapel stairs an easy climb, even with the heavy duty cane the hospital had provided for him, making him look almost as old as he felt. His joints were stiff and, despite the pain killers the doctors had given him, every movement of his leg was agony and by the time he got to the top he could almost sympathise with anyone who had been brave enough or dumb enough to climb Everest.

He was greatly relieved as he reached to the top and heard the low voices of his partners. His eyes scanned the room and he spotted them deep in conversation over by Harry's desk, seemly oblivious to anything else. It was then that his leg finally gave up and collapsed beneath him.

They all spun round, startled as they heard the agonised groan from the top of the stairs. Harry's dark almond shaped eyes flashing and his brows knitting together in concern as he surveyed the larger man from his position at his desk, while Judy let out a gasp and ran straight towards her friend.

"Jesus, Penhall, what are you doing here?" she scolded as she supported him as best she could, thankful that most of his weight was on the cane clutched in his left hand.

"I couldn't stand being stuck in that place any longer."

"You haven't even started physio yet Doug."

"I don't need to be stuck in a hospital room to do a few exercises."

"No, but a wheelchair would make it easier to cart you around." Harry said as he hurried towards them, supporting Doug on the other side as he noticed the strain on Judy's face.

"I'm sick of wheel chairs. I'm not a cripple."

"Not yet." Ioki scolded. "Keep dragging your sorry ass up those stairs everyday and you soon will be." he finished as he and Hoffs deposited Doug on the chair beside his desk.

Doug let out a sigh of relief as the weight was taken of his screaming aching limbs, then closed his eyes and waited for the sickness to pass. When he opened them they fell on the empty, obsessively tidy desk a short distance away by the holding cell. A frown creased his features and he looked over at Judy.

"Hanson still not back?"

"Err, no, not yet. The doctor said he needed to take some time out."

"That includes not going to visit he sick friend in hospital?"

"He said Tom should stay clear of anything that would upset him." Judy said nervously, feeling lower with every lie that fell from her lips, thinking that maybe she was beginning to understand where Tom was coming form. She had done nothing but lie to Doug for the past few weeks and it didn't get any easier.

"I won't upset him. I just want to check on him. Is he at home?" he asked before grabbing the phone and dialling the familiar number.

"Doug, stop. Put the phone down."

He looked at her suspiciously as he held the phone tightly to his ear and felt his stomach turn when he heard the familiar recorded message.

__

"Hi this is Tom. Leave your message after the beep. Oh, and thanks for calling."

"Tom? Come on man pick up, it's me." Doug said shakily, waiting in vain for the impatient bark as his partner picked up the phone. He imagined it so clearly in his head that he could almost hear him, but there was only silence.

"Hey man, what is this?" he said trying to keep voice light, "three weeks and you don't visit and now you won't even talk to me? Come on Tom, please pick up."

Unable to stand it anymore Judy pulled the receiver from Doug's hand and placed it back in the cradle.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"He's not going to answer Doug."

"Why? What's happened?" he asked in a panic. "Oh god Judy he hasn't….."

"No." she replied, tears swimming in her eyes. "He's not going to answer because he isn't there. Because three weeks ago we had him committed to County Mental Hospital."

"What?" he said, his voice low and dangerous as his usually soft laughing eyes blazed at her. "You put my partner into a nut house?"

"There was no other way Doug."

"Tell me this is some kind of sick joke Judy." he said, his voice low and dangerous. Judy simply shook her head as the tears began to work their way down her face. "How could you do that to him?" he yelled using his cane to pull himself out of the chair, still towering over the young woman despite having to lean heavily on his stick.

"Because he's lost his mind Doug."

"So you thought you'd get him out the way. Put the little embarrassing problem behind closed doors is that it?"

"His own mother saw how sick he is. She made the decision to put him in there so don't you dare lay this on me."

"Only because you told her things that scared her so much she thought there was nothing else she could do."

"There wasn't. Don't you get that?" she yelled.

"He's my best friend." Doug seethed.

"I know Doug. We all do. You've told us a thousand times. The thing is, you're not the only one who cares about him."

"It sure seems that way to me."

"Get over yourself Penhall." Judy said, her anger bubbling over now too. "Have you any idea how hard this was for me? I love Tom. More than I have ever loved anyone. I know you love him too" she said cutting off Doug's retort before he had a chance to open his mouth. "I just have a different way of showing it than you do."

"Yeah, by farming him out to the nearest nut house as soon as he starts to become a little difficult."

"Oh, cos burying my head in the sand and pretending nothing's happening so I don't have to deal with it would be a much better way?"

"At least I didn't stab him in the back."

"Hey, man, back off." Harry said firmly as he made his way over, unable to listen to his friends tearing each other to shreds.

"Stay out of this Harry." Doug snapped before turning his attention back to Hoffs.

"You can't protect him from this Doug. None of us can. He's with people who know how to handle him and help him get well again."

"I know how to handle him. I've been handling him for the best part of five years. You really think any quack can possibly know him better than his own partner?"

"The person you think you know isn't there anymore Doug." Hoffs said, trying to keep her voice level, and almost succeeding. "He's sick, and there was no other choice."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself Judy?" Doug asked stonily. "Because we both know that being locked in there is only going to make him worse."

"They're going to help him. It's for the best."

"You think just because you sleep with him you get the right to decide what happens to him?"

"Stop it Penhall."

"No. The only reason you wanted him stuck in there is because you don't want the whole department knowing you fucked a working class white boy with mental problems."

"Doug, you're crossing the line here man." Harry intervened.

"It's alright Harry. I can deal with him." Judy said waving her hand towards her partner while keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the man in front of her. "You think you're the only one who gets to hurt here Doug?" she said, her whole body shaking with anger and grief. "I know you must have been through hell with him while you were both trapped in there, but it's not been easy for the rest of us either. That night you were shot I had to talk him out of putting a bullet through his head and after that he tried to slice my throat with a broken bottle, so don't you dare think that we made this decision lightly. I've had to watch this amazing, kind hearted, beautiful guy, who I love with all my heart be swallowed up by this neurotic, paranoid, angry, bitter stranger who I don't recognise and it's tearing me to pieces. But there wasn't anything else we could do."

"Say that enough and you might just start to believe it. But don't expect me to, because I will never forgive you for this. And I'm betting Tom won't either."

"Right that's enough." Harry yelled, grabbing Doug's arm and carefully moving him away from Judy.

"You defending her Harry?"

"No. I'm just as upset as you are, but Judy doesn't deserve this. Hanson is ill. You know that. She was only doing what she thought was best." he said softly. "Besides, you really think Hanson would be happy about you talking to Jude that way?"

"You're as bad as the rest of them."

"Doug?" came Fullers calm voice from behind them.

"What?" Penhall snapped spinning round and turning his blazing eyes on his commanding officer.

"Can I see you in my office?" he asked, his face calm and impassive as he studied the younger man.

"Sure." Doug replied coldly and with a last withering glance at Judy he sullenly followed his captain into the small office.

"Thanks Harry." Judy said tearfully.

"Don't thank me Judy. I still think what you did was wrong, but you really didn't deserve that." he finished softly. "But then, neither did Tom."

"Maybe not. But it's what he needs right now."

"What? Three of the people he loves and trusts most in the whole world dragging him off to the nut house? You might think it's for the best Jude, but the way you went about it stinks." he spat.

"Harry, please. I can't bare this." she sobbed. "It was the most difficult and horrible experience of my entire life. And believe me Harry, I've had some pretty bad experiences. Don't you think that if there was some other way we would have found it? You didn't see him Harry. You didn't see how wild and strung out he's gotten. You didn't hear the poison spewing from his mouth or see the gun he was holding to his head. You weren't the one with broken glass digging into your throat." she ranted, all her hurt and frustration beginning to pour out. "You can't hate me any more than I hate myself right now, trust me. When I think about Tom in that place it makes me sick to my stomach and tears me apart, but we can't give him the help he needs, those doctors can. So you can hate me and dump on me for what we did, but if it helps Tom get well again it will all be worth it, because nothing you can dish out can possibly be worse than seeing the state he's in now." she finished at tears streamed down her face.

"Judy, I'm sorry." Ioki said putting his arms around her. "I know you guys wouldn't have done it if you didn't have to." he continued feeling like he was about 3 inches tall. He had never seen Judy look so defeated, and for Judy Hoffs to loose it this badly he had a feeling things had gotten a lot more serious than he thought.

"Just tell me everything's going to be alright Harry."

"It will be. You'll see." he said hugging her shaking form as tightly as he could.

--

"Shut the door please Doug," Fuller said as he walked over to the window and stared out trying to collect his thoughts. Doug dutifully closed the door behind him and sat down heavily on the seat opposite Fullers desk. The seat he had sat in so many times before under the steely, angry glance of his superior officer as said officer expressed his disappointment. Of course his partner was usually sat beside him taking some of the glare from him. Now however his partner was locked up in what he could only describe as a prison for the insane. Telling himself his partner was in no way insane he fixed his cold angry eyes on the back of Fullers head. As if he could feel those eyes burning into the back of his head, Fuller turned round to meet them.

"You think we did the wrong thing?" he asked calmly sitting down across from the angry young man.

"No. I just think you went about it the wrong way. I'm not an idiot Captain Fuller. I was the one who found him after he slashed his wrist. I was the one he nearly drove under a truck. It was me who had to drag him away from flying bullets. I had to watch him fall to pieces in front of my eyes and couldn't do anything about it. There were times in there when I didn't know who the hell he was." he said distressed. "I know that he's where he needs to be to get help, I just wish it wasn't happening."

"So do I Doug, we all do. But the thing is, it is happening. You saw him Doug. I think you more than any of us know just how sick he is. You just don't want to let yourself admit it."

"I'm not just going to write him off. He's my best friend and my partner."

"Doug, I think it's time you decided which one is more important to you."

"It may have escaped your notice Captain, but they're the same person."

"Not anymore. You see right now your partner is eating your best friend alive from the inside out. Your partner has had to do things that are completely against his nature to get himself out of situations that your best friend would never get himself into."

"Do you want to talk me through that for a minute cos what you just said MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE."

"Think about it Penhall. Everything that Tom has had to do over the past few years has gone against everything basic to his nature. He got into this job to help people, not punish, use and lie to them. What do you think it must do to you having to deal with that?" he asked not really expecting an answer. "How do you think he feels to be punished for doing what you were always taught to believe was right?"

"No one was punishing him but himself."

"That's not how Tom sees it. Doug, he was sent to prison for nothing. You know that he could never accept that it was just a mistake. For people like Tom there's got to be some justice behind everything. He had all that time with nothing to do but think over everything that happened, to try and make some sense of what he could possibly have done to deserve to suffer like that. All that time for his mind to come up with a reason for why he was being punished. And what do you think he came up with?" he finished, watching Doug seem to diminish as his anger subsided and was replaced by grief.

"I've let him down so badly."

"No you haven't."

"Yes I have. I should have found that bullet. I should never have doubted him. I know if was only for a second but it was enough."

"Doug, you got him out of there."

"I was too late though wasn't I." he sighed. "And I never even realised there was anything wrong. I didn't notice his drinking or how withdrawn he'd gotten. I was just so happy to have him back with us. But I should have seen it. We don't even know if it was prison that triggered it." Doug continued as Fuller just sat there and let him pour out his grief. "The second I saw him after Tower was killed I should have seen something was wrong. He was so calm, it was like he didn't care whether he did it or not, or even what was going to happen to him. I should have helped him."

"How could you have helped him when he never asked you to?"

"I never had to ask him for help. He just knew, he was always there. I didn't have to ask him to come to El Salvador with me. He offered before the thought even crossed my mind. And you know what Captain, he'd have up and followed me even if I'd made him promise to stay away. So why should he have to ask me for my help?"

"Maybe he didn't want your help."

"I'm his best friend. Why wouldn't he want my help?" Then as if in answer he heard Tom's voice echoing in his head like some faded cassette tape. "_Remind me not to ask you for help when I'm really in trouble."_ and he suddenly felt sick.

"Because he was scared and ashamed."

"No. He just didn't trust me to believe in him."

"From what I see Doug, you're the only one he does trust."

"So why didn't he talk to me?"

"There's only Tom can tell you that."

"But he's sick right?" he said bitterly. "You know he probably saved my life back there."

"There's no probably about it Doug. He did save your life."

"Not bad for a nut ball huh?"

"Doug..."

"He tried so hard to fight it you know. While he was trying to fix my leg. I could see it, in his face, the way he was shaking. He did that all so he could help me." he finished, filled with a rush of emotion as his mind cast back to watching his friend struggle to keep aware and focused as he did his best to stop Doug from bleeding to death. "He did all that for me and I can't even tell him how grateful I am."

"I'm sure deep down he knows."

"Well, if he doesn't know he soon will!"

"Where are you going?" he asked as he watched Doug limp painfully across the room.

"I'm going to see my friend."

"You won't be able to see him Doug."

"The good old American justice system didn't keep me from him, I'm damned if our second rate healthcare system will."

"And what about Tom? Can he keep you from him? He wouldn't even see his own mother."

"He'll see me."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I know him." Doug shrugged.

"No Doug, you knew him."

"Ok fine. How about this? He'll see me because I wasn't the one who shoved him away in a loony bin."

"You're not bring fair, Doug." Fuller said, trying his best to keep his voice level and calm. "You saw how bad he was. We did what we had to."

"Whatever." Doug seethed as he pulled himself up gripping the cane so tightly that his hands were turning white.

"Doug!" Fuller called out as Penhall turned towards the door.

"Yes captain?"

"The fire department found this when they were sifting through what was left of that building." he said turning something thoughtfully in his hands before throwing it to Doug. "I think you should take of that. He might want it back one day." Doug took one look at the small leather wallet in his hand and knew exactly what it was. He had seen Hanson throw it away as he spoke to what he thought was his dead father.

"I wouldn't bet on it." he said bitterly.

"I thought you weren't going to write him off?"

"Everyone else seems to be doing. Why should I be any different?"

Because I'm counting on you to keep us all from drowning here Doug. Just because I'm the authority figure here doesn't mean I don't need help. It sure as hell doesn't mean I don't hurt like the rest of you. I love that boy just as much as you do."

"I know. I'm sorry." Doug replied before both men lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

"One things for sure." Doug said breaking the silence. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure Pettrelli goes away for a very long time."

"That might not be so easy Doug."

"I don't care. If it hadn't been for him, me and Tom would never have been in that place and he would never had shot Casey."

"You really think that's all there is too it? Doug, Hanson has way more problems than that. This would have happened whether he had shot that kid or not."

"Maybe, but I can sure as hell make sure it wasn't for nothing. Matthews said he'd help us right? He said he'd give us anything he could on the bastard."

"Yes he did. But that's not going to matter anymore."

"Why?"

"Because James Matthews was found hanging in his cell last night." Fuller told him bluntly as Doug's wide shocked eyes locked on his.

"He killed himself?"

"It looks that way."

"So what now. Pettrelli just disappears again?"

"With none of the others talking and the one guy we have with information dead there's nothing much we can do."

"Hanson was right." Doug said quietly. "We really are wasting our time. Scum like that ruins lives and just walks away, while we're left to hurt and suffer for trying to do the right thing."

"And as I told Tom, you can't really say that. You see, you can't win them all Doug, but the few you do win make it worth it."

"He will be alright, won't he? He's got through worse." Doug said turning pleading eyes on the older man.

"Come on. You can hardly stand let alone drive." Fuller said suddenly

"What?"

"I'll take you to see Tom."

"Thank you." Doug said quietly. Fuller looked at him wishing he hadn't said that. The last thing he wanted was to crush the little bit of hope that Doug had, but the only way he could see Doug accepting this was if he saw Tom for himself, or didn't see him as the case would probably be.

"You can thank me by apologising to Judy. We all need to support each other Doug."

"Later." Doug said flatly before slowly and awkwardly following his commanding officer.

--

Even hindered by his injury and walking stick, Doug marched into the hospital like a whirlwind, Fuller finding himself struggling to keep up with him, and wondering when this was all going to prove too much for the injured officer. He eventually caught up to him when the younger man reached the large desk in the centre of the reception area.

"Can I help you?" the young blonde nurse on the admission desk asked as she met Doug Penhall's angry hazel eyes.

"Yeah. Tom Hanson. I want to see him and I'm not taking no for an answer."

"I'll have to see if he's receiving visitors."

"That makes no difference. I've told you I'm seeing him, and I don't care if he wants to see me or not."

"Doug, this isn't helping." Fuller said grabbing Penhall by the arm and turning to face him. "If Tom doesn't want to see you, he probably has his reasons."

"I thought Tom and reason didn't hang together that much anymore."

"Doug..."

"You think maybe he doesn't want to see you because you put him in here."

"I'm sorry." the nurse said nervously, cutting their bickering dead. "But Mr Hanson isn't a patient here anymore."

"What?" Penhall and Fuller asked in unison as they both spun round in shock to face the young woman.

"He was discharged a week ago."

"Are you sure?" Fuller asked, a puzzled and anxious look twisting his features. "Are you positive you've got the right person."

"I'm positive."

"So where is he?" Doug asked.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you. All this information is confidential.

The two men exchanged glances, the joy dancing in Doug's eyes very different to the concern and suspicion in his captains.

"I knew he wasn't crazy." Doug said before hobbling away as fast as he could, leaning heavily on his cane.

"What are you doing Penhall?" Fuller snapped hurrying after him, wondering how in the hell someone who could hardly walk could move so fast. He supposed it was hope that was driving him, unfortunately he didn't share Doug's sunny outlook. Problems like Tom's weren't cured in a fortnight.

"I'm going to find Tom." he said, allowing a barely noticeable grimace to twist his features as pain shot through his damaged leg.

"And just where do you think you're going to find him?" he pushed, not receiving any answer from the younger man, whose face was grim with determination and slick with sweat from the very obvious pain he has in.

"Doug, stop." Fuller barked, placing a careful hand on Doug's shoulder. "This is stupid Penhall, you can barely walk."

"So are you going to drive me his place or not?"

"And when we get there? What then?" Fuller asked calmly. "What you expect your going to find there Doug?"

"We won't know till we get there will we?" Doug replied, obviously hanging on to his new found hope by the most tenuous of grips. "So are you going to drive me or am I going to permanently cripple myself."

Fuller looked into Doug's pain twisted face, his eyes steely and defiant despite his obvious distress and knew at once that there was no way Doug was going to let go of this small ray of hope unless until he had seen with his own eyes that it was useless. He let out a long suffering sigh and began to move towards the exit.

"You coming or not?" he said, turning back to his young friend and watching as he struggled his way towards him.

--

The drive Tom's apartment passed in an uncomfortable silence. The closer they got the more agitated and restless Doug became. Fuller could feel him shifting round in the seat, his eyes darting about the car as if he was trying to find something to fix his mind on. Every so often he could sense Doug turning to look at him as if there was something he wanted to ask, but always changed his mind at the last second. In a way he was glad, he didn't want to answer anymore of his officers questions, because with every second that went by the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach got deeper and deeper. He got the distinct feeling that at any moment Doug was going to crash, and hard.

This thought was almost proved right when Doug struggled his way out of the car and almost collapsed in a heap on the ground. Fuller raced round to the other side of the car and began to pull him to his feet, supporting him as best he could.

"Doug, you really should still be in hospital." he said, his voice full of concern, all thoughts of the missing Hanson momentarily pushed from his mind.

"I'll be fine." he winced. "Once I've seen Tom."

"You don't even know he's here." Fuller tried to reason, the physical and emotional pain on his young friends face making him ache. "Do you really think that after all you've seen that they're just going to let him go?"

"You said he's on medication right? It must be working."

"Doug, look..."

"NO!" he yelled, his head snapping up and his eyes glaring angrily at his captain. "Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it."

"You're going to have to hear it Doug. Tom is seriously sick. He's mentally ill, do you get that. People like that don't just get to walk around free and unsupervised."

"People like that? You mean psychos?" Doug said glaring coldly at his captain.

"What would it take to get you to see what's going on here Penhall?" Fuller yelled in frustration. "He's hearing voices. He tried to kill himself, tried to kill Judy and he damn near killed you. How far would this have to go? Would he actually have to kill one of you or himself to get you see how ill he is? What if next time it had been Clavo? What would you have done then?"

"Tom would never hurt Clavo."

"No he wouldn't. But Tom's gone Doug. The bag's split open and pretty much every marble he has has rolled across the floor and out the window. The lights are on and it's got way too crowded in there."

"I K NOW!" Doug almost screamed cutting Fullers words dead. "He's as nutty as a fruit cake, I know. After all I've seen and heard how could I not? I may not be the sharpest tool in the box, but I'm no idiot. But, just for one second let me believe that my best friend is ok, please".

"What good is that going to do? What you need to do is go back to the hospital, let them take care of you and let those who know what they're doing take care of Hanson."

"No. I have to see for myself." Doug replied running a hand over his drawn, pain filled face. "We're going to go up there, make sure he's ok and then I'll go anywhere you want. That's the deal."

"Penhall, he's not ok, and I'm pretty damn sure he's not going to be in there."

"I'm not discussing this anymore."

"Ok. But don't expect too much Doug."

Penhall threw a last angry glance at his captain before allowing him to help him make their slow and stumbling way to the entrance. As they walked through the door Fuller thanked every possible god he could think of that this seemed to be the only apartment block in the whole city where the elevator still worked and he wouldn't have to drag Doug up the stairs to Hanson's apartment on the second floor. Then again if they had to climb the stairs he could have put off seeing that faint thread of hope completely ripped from Doug hands. He didn't know where Hanson could be, but he was sure as hell it wouldn't be here. In fact, as they reached the door to the place Tom Hanson had called home these past few years, he was still hoping that Doug would change his mind.

"You sure you want to do this." Fuller asked, looking at Doug as he leaned heavily on his cane, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps.

"I'm sure." he replied taking a deep breath and pulling himself up to his full height. He knocked cautiously on the door and called out, "Tom? You there?"

Fuller watched him anxiously as there came nothing but silence from the other side of the door. And why should it be any different? They didn't let mental patients just walk away.

"Hanson? Come on man, you can't avoid us forever."

"Doug, he's not there."

"He's got to be."

"Why? Think about it Doug. You've seen better than anyone what kind of state he's in. You know they wouldn't just let him go."

Doug looked back at his superior with defiant silence before, keeping one hand clasped tightly on the cane by his side, reaching up and frantically feeling around the door frame.

"Penhall, what are you doing." Fuller asked wearily.

"He's in there captain, I know he is, and I have to get in."

"Doug..."

"He could be in there hurt or something."

"He isn't Penhall, and I think you know that."

"What if he's done something stupid again and he's lying in there bleeding to death while I stand here being lectured by you?"

"What are you going to do? Break in?"

"I don't have to." Doug said with a small smile as he produced the key from the top of the door, a habit Tom had picked up from him over the years. Fuller again found himself surprised at how well these two had gotten to know each other over the past few years, as he stood staring at the pale but grinning young officer stood beside him. It only made the whole situation so much harder.

"Doug" he said, placing his hand over Penhall's as he put the key in the lock. "Don't get your hopes up."

Doug swung the door open and hobbled into the silent dark apartment.

"Hanson, you in here?" he called out, the cheerfulness in his voice betrayed by how much it was shaking. He flicked on the light and as he did both he and Fuller gasped at the sight that met them.

Fuller had heard Judy's tale of what happened in here that night but the state of the place was as much a shock to him as it was to Doug. They saw the broken glass scattered across the floor, the shattered coffee table that lay by the hole in the wall and Fuller's heart sank when his eyes caught sight of the gun Judy had only just been able to stop him from blowing his head off with.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he looked anxiously over at his young companion. Doug didn't answer, but slowly hobbled his way across the apartment his eyes sweeping the room as if he could make Hanson appear out of nowhere by sheer force of will.

"Oh Jesus, Tom." Doug sighed as he spotted the dark stains on the kitchen floor that had been left by Tom's half hearted effort to clean up after his first suicide attempt. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know." Fuller said, startling the younger man as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "But he's not here Doug. Do you get that now?"

Doug glared daggers at his commanding officer before making for a nearby drawer and frantically rooting through it's contents.

"It's gotta be here. You're right, there's no way they'd let him go, right?"

"Doug, what are you looking for."

"He always keeps a spare in here." he said, becoming more frantic.

"Spare what?"

"It's gone." Doug yelled, slamming his fist against the wall, ignoring his captain.

"Penhall, for god's sake, talk to me."

Doug just limped back to towards the small kitchen, trying to ignore the dark stains on the floor and began rooting through the cupboards.

"Doug, what's going on?" Fuller said calmly from behind him as he watched the younger man, feeling sick to his stomach as he too noticed the stains and the worrying amount of alcohol that seemed to be scattered about the small apartment. He was slightly startled when Doug let out a triumphant bark.

"He's still around here somewhere!" he said with a tired grin as he waved a set of keys in Fullers face. "You really think he's gonna go far without these."

"What are you talking about?"

"His mom's got one set of keys and the spares here. He wouldn't go anywhere without that heap of junk." he smiled fondly.

"His car?" Fuller asked wearily.

"I've gotta find him." Doug stammered as he hobbled his way past Fuller.

"And how are you going to do that."

"Someone has to know where he is. And I got a good idea who."

"Where are you going now?"

"Back to the hospital to talk to his shrink."

"Doug, we've been there. He's gone, remember. You can't keep going back and forth on some wild goose chase. Tom, obviously doesn't want us to know where he is, and you're in no fit state to go running round looking for a .." Fuller stopped dead, cutting off his last thoughts with mixed feelings of shame and embarrassment.

"Running round after a mad man? Is that what you were going to say?"

"No." he replied unconvincingly.

"I know exactly what you were going to say. It's ok, he is. I know it." he allowed himself a small bitter smile as he registered the look on his captains face. "But he could be anywhere and doing God know what out there. He's lost his mind, and if that isn't reason why we should find him, i don't know what is."

"So what are you going to do?"

"What I should have done in the first place, instead of running straight round here like some moron living on blind faith."

Fuller sighed and followed behind Doug as he made his slow painful way out the door, feeling like flotsam being dragged along by the tide.

--

"Where is he?" Doug barked as he burst through the door into Dr Spencer's office.

"Excuse me?" he asked blankly, hardly remembering the nervous, suspicious officer he had interviewed all those years ago. "Can I help you?"

"My partner. Tom Hanson. I've just been told he's not a patient here anymore. Now set me straight if I'm wrong here, but I thought people as ill as everyone had been telling me he is should be locked safely away for their own good."

"That's right Mr..."

"Penhall" Doug barked, sending a flash of recognition through the shrink's eyes.

"Mr Penhall. That's right, Tom isn't a patient here anymore. He asked me to transfer him to another institution. He thought it be better for all concerned if he got as far away from here as he could."

"So tell me where he is."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that."

"Really?" And why not?"

"Tom asked me not to, and, as he's my patient I have to respect his wishes."

"Why would he do that?"

"It's not my place to say."

"Well I can hardly ask him can I?" Doug yelled in the older man's face. "Besides, if he's in another nut house, he's not your patient anymore."

"I'm sorry, I really can't tell you."

"Ok. Let me put it this way. Tom is part of a criminal investigation, and if you don't tell me where he is I can charge you with withholding information and hindering a police investigation."

"Officer Penhall, is Tom being charged with any crime?" Spencer asked calmly

"No. But he's an eyewitness to a gun smuggling ring, attempted murder, kidnapping and a potential drug smuggling charge."

"And would you say, that given his current condition, that Officer Hanson is really a reliable witness?" he said, smiling sadly at the anger and defeat in Doug's eyes.

"What do think Doug?" Fuller asked calmly from behind him.

"No he isn't" Doug said quietly, seeming to shrink before the older men's eyes.

"Then I suggest you accept what I'm telling you and respect your friend's wishes."

"What am I supposed to do, just pretend he doesn't exist? Go about my business and forget him, forget everything we've been through? I can't do that."

"You don't have to. But if Tom means as much to you as you say he does then you'll do as he asks. Just let him be. When he's ready I'm sure he get in touch."

"And how long will that be? Weeks? Months? Years? Just how long am I meant to stand here trying to pretend that my best friend isn't going through hell all on his own out there?"

"I can assure you both" Spencer said quietly and calmly, "That Tom will not be on his own and he will be getting all that he needs to get well again."

"So we're supposed to just hang back and wait?" Doug asked in frustration.

"It's all we can do Doug." Fuller said putting a hand on his young friends shoulder.

"And his mom and Judy? What are we meant to do about them?"

"I really am sorry." Spencer said, "Now please, I have patients to see and you need to move past this for your own sake." he finished as he held the door open for them and Fuller led his young officer out into the hallway.

As the door closed behind them Doug smashed his free hand into the wall and let out a yell full of pain, frustration and anger as Fuller stood by watching, thinking it best to let Doug let off a little steam.

"This can't be happening. Hanson wouldn't do that."

"But he has Doug. Just for now, you'll have to let him go." he said calmly and carefully.

"I can't just do that. I've watched out for him for years, and he's always been there for me. I can't just turn all that off."

"You're going to have to learn."

"What's going to happen to him? I mean, how is he going to live when he gets out of that place?"

"As of three weeks ago he's on sick leave indefinitely, until we here otherwise. That way he'll have something to come out to, I'll make sure of that."

"So what do we do now?" Doug asked, sounding totally beaten and crushed.

"Nothing. We wait, and if Tom decides he wants to see us, he knows where we are."

"With all due respect Captain, fuck that." he said, his eyes flashing angrily.

"There's not much else you can do Penhall."

"Yes there is." Doug growled. "I can scour every mental hospital in the damn country until I find him."

"Doug!" Fuller called uselessly as he watched the younger man limp painfully away. "Don't you think that if he wanted you to know where he was he would have told you?"

"I don't care. I'm not quitting on him, so he sure as hell doesn't get to quit on me."

The End?

**Well that's it for now folks. I'm going to go have a bit of a life before I get sucked in again. Hope the ending didn't disappoint. See you next time xx**


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